Paper Flowers
by Samantha Smythe
Summary: It's a hot summer in New York. Blaine is tired of his suit and his job and Kurt is tired of living in the streets. Not that he'd ever admit it, a bit jaded over the years. What happens when they clash together?
1. Chapter 1

Just an idea I've been playing around with for a while. So it's clear, age is not the canon age in Glee. Also, I don't own Glee or any of the characters -

New York. The Perfect City, The Big Apple, a name known to all, a dream of many. The noise, skyscrapers, the Ball Drop, Times Square, Broadway and the one and only, Central Park. First kisses, perfect romantic dates and cavity-inducing young love. Blaine Anderson has seen it all. At first, when he arrived, there were almost comic pink hearts in his eyes. It was all new, big, loud. As if someone bought better surround system, turned up the volume to full, and topped it off with a sixty inch LCD screen to show all these movies; New Years Eve, Confessions of a Shopaholic...all right in front of his eyes. For Blaine to experience a new, better 3D technology. But loud speaker system and bright images have this little trait that can be discouraging - after a while they hurt your eyes, and your ears just need a break. The problem here is, you can't turn it off in New York. The television is constantly on, and Blaine has lost the remote; and the dreamy New Years Eve movie, turned into a nightmare the second it just stopped working out. Blaine came to New York right after High School. His family wasn't too pleased about that, but they kept quiet though and let him go to NYADA, whispering into each other's ears some comforting words: 'he'll get tired of it.' 'he'll understand that this was just a childish dream. He'll come around'

And Blaine did. Until this day, he can't actually place the exact moment or date. But it must've been somewhere in-between the twenty sixth audition and thirty eighth letter from a record company, rejecting his demo album, claiming his type of music wasn't exactly on top right now. He recalls spending a few nights, and a few days for that matter, in his king-sized bed, in a duplex, in Brooklyn. He recalls crying a lot and shaking a lot, and throwing pillows a lot. But then he called his parents, and, as they said, 'he came around'. Basically, at twenty three, after four years at NYADA, and two years of trying to get 'out there' while working doubles in a coffee shop, Blaine Anderson decided to get his life together and forget the stupid dream he had. He never went back to Ohio; he couldn't. But his parents gladly paid for NYAU, the New York Attroney University, and had him move closer to 'better part' of this restless city; to Manhattan. He still worked as a barista, but more to occupy his free time, than to earn money for living. At twenty seven, Blaine was in the final year of his study. Well, technically he wasn't IN his final year...and he will only turn twenty-seven in a few months...but it was the summer, still, and I'm skipping ahead of the story. It is summer for now. Summer Blaine was spending as an apprentice, aspiring to become a criminal lawyer. Or was it his parents' aspiration? By now, Blaine couldn't remember. He kind of just lost himself in the noise of the city, almost forgetting the beauty of it, and completely forgetting his little dream. He was just existing, between his flat (Floor no. 6, flat no. 8b), his work, and his nights out. If you asked him, he probably wouldn't be able to tell you what he had for dinner last night. And the charm of the city just doesn't phase you anymore after nine years; especially if you have no one to share it with. But at that point, finding someone, and being with someone other than himself, was also another silly high school dream, tucked away on the highest shelf in his brain.

Sometimes life just gives you this one last chance; one last chance to reconcille, to maybe get back on track, and, God forbid, start living your life the way you've always wanted it to be. And that last chance was Kurt Hummel.

It was the end of May 2019. It also might've been the hottest summer in New York since Blaine first put his foot on the gray New York concrete. Ok, it kind of felt like the hottest summer Blaine had ever lived through. And Blaine couldn't wait to get this damned suit off; or at least loosen the tie. He glanced at a gray clock ticking its rhythm behind his head - 3:46. Only fourteen more minutes and he was free to go. He looked back at the papers in front of him - on going cases he needed to sort chronigically, correspondence he needed to go through - and his only thought was: 'this is going to be the rest of my life?' He thought it, but he didn't go any further with it. Mostly, because the answer to that was 'Yes. Yes and get over it already.'  
His cellphone rang; a few years ago, his ring would have been his favourite song at that moment, but today it was the manufactured beep that was there when he first bought the phone. But the fact it was his cell phone ringing, and not the landline on his desk, meant only one person could be calling. He sighed and braced himself for the most uninteresting conversation with his father. 'Hello, Blaine Anderson speaking' He almost felt his father shooting an approving look through the phone; no wonder, his previous greeting was ''...hmprh?'' usually in a very sleepy voice, as his father tended to call him at an ungodly hour of eight in the morning - right before work.

'Blaine, this is your dad'  
'Dad' I know. 'How are you?'  
'I'm great, and how are you?'  
'Peachy.' The word came out of his mouth before his brain managed to register it.  
'Blaine.' his father said, and Blaine sighed quietly, almost unaudiable.  
'I'm just joking, dad. I'm fine. About to finish up work actually.'  
'Yes Blaine, I know. I know what time it is. Anyway, I'm just calling to see if there's any news?' code word for: did Watson put you on a specific case yet, so you can go to the court with him and start your career?  
'No, no news dad. I'm just working and then I'm working at home and then...I just work some more.'  
'Very well.' Code word for: No? That's because you don't try enough. You never did. You'll get nowhere with that attitude.  
'Yeah, dad, listen, how's mom's doing?'  
'She's great, I suppose. Her new book is selling really well, surprisingly. Have you picked it up yet?' Blaine's mom was a writer; she wrote biographies for famous people who thought other people cared about their lives. 'Yes dad, I did. Her writing is even more excellent than in the last one. Really draws the reader in.' If his dad picked up the sarcasm, and Blaine was sure he did, he didn't say anything. And it wasn't like Blaine didn't like his mom's writings. He did, and she was indeed great, but she wasn't made to write boring biographies; when he was little she used to make up fairy tales instead of telling the ones already written centuries ago. In Blaine's head, that's what she was made for. 'I agree. Listen, Elaine and I were thinking that we could maybe visit you in, lets say, August? She really misses you.' She does? And you? 'Y..yeah, that's a great idea. What about Coop, er, Cooper?'  
'He's still in Los Angeles. If I get to speak to him before August, I'll ask him.'  
'Great, well, um..'  
'You should probably get back to work. You still have eight minutes left.'  
'I do' Blaine said quietly. 'Alright then, dad, I'll talk to you soon?'  
'Sure Blaine. Should I tell your mom that you send her your greetings?'  
How formal. 'Sure. Bye dad!' He hung up before hearing an answer, and decided to call it a day.

After gathering all the papers, and saying a few quick goodbyes to his co-workers, he clocked out and left the building. The afternoon heat hit him instantly; he wordlessly pondered on whether he should take a cab, or walk, and with the last adjustment to his tie (he felt he was about to suffocate), he decided on the latter. The traffic would be awful anyway. He made another life-changing decision, when thinking whether to go through Central Park or around it. Around it is what he chose and he bitterly thought that these will be the hardest decisions he will have to make from now on. He walked down the street absentmindly, almost automatically dropping two quarters into a cup of every homeless person he passed - if he had so much money, thanks to his parents, he could atleast do something good with them. 'I don't want your money' an ice-cold sound made its way through the fog of absense and Blaine stopped, turning on his heel. He searched with his eyes and there, on the left was a man sitting on a blanket, glaring at him. 'Uh, um, I'm sorry, I thought...'  
'Don't care what you thought. I don't beg, I will never go that low. I sell. These' He pointed at a stack of flowers of different sizes, types and colours. All made from paper. 'If you want to make a charity out of your rich ass, then take one of these and go away.'  
Blaine felt a stab of embaressment and a rich red colour crept onto his cheeks. He kneeled in front of the flowers. 'How much are they?' he asked.  
'Dunno. Whatever you're willing to pay I suppose.' Blaine took a good look at the flowers. He recognized some roses, tulips, daisies. But the most beautiful ones were a type he didn't recognize. And they looked like someone spent a few hours on them. They were definitely worth more than fifty cents. Blaine pulled out his wallet and passed the man the first bill he grabbed. 'Ten bucks? You're giving me ten bucks? Wow. You're either really rich or really stupid. Probably both.' Blaine didn't answer and instead picked up one of the flowers. it was light yellow on the upside, and the two sides of each leaf curved inwards, showed off the washed out red on the backside. It had a big plastic diamond in the middle, and a few tiny ones on few of the leaves. It was also touched with silver glitter on some parts, but not overwhelmingly so. 'I want this one.' he said, with a lingering thought that that's not what future attroney Blaine Anderson would do. He'd ignore the man and go away. But he just..stopped. 'For ten bucks? Take all of them, if you will. Well, no, don't do that, because I'll have to make more which means at least ten minutes with nothing to sell. It's a Dahlia.'

Blaine chuckled, but his smile died on his lips when he finally looked up, taking a good look at the man. His face was dirty and bruised (bruised?) and his hair was dirty as well. Homeless or not though, that man definitely had a comb and he definitely used it. And somewhere under a few worry lines, the man was...pretty. Beautiful even. Blaine thought he was going mad. He just called a homeless man pretty. Is there such thing as hobophilia?  
'Dahlia. Never heard of it. Then again, never paid attention to flowers.' No response, just almost-awkward smile. 'Blaine Anderson.' Blaine said and stretched out his hand.

'Good for you.' The man said, taking Blaine's hand and shaking it lightly before letting go. Somewhere between the awkward smile and not introducing himself, Blaine noticed just how uncomfortable the man is. He was shifting in his place and looking away. Right. Riiiight. He remembered now that men in suits don't stop for a nice chat with homeless people and they definitely don't go into trouble of kneeling down and introducing themselves. And just like that, Mr. Anderson was back.

'Well. Thank you for the flower.' He got off his knees. 'Nice um, meeting you.'  
The other man saluted, giving Blaine another awkward smile. Blaine walked away, but not before turning back one last time and seeing the other man looking at him as well, his piercing glasz eyes half closed, almost trying to figure Blaine out. It was well into the evening before he got to look at the flower again. Categorizing pages and pages of printed word is not easy; and whoever said reading black on white is the easiest way, should be shot, so by the time he turned the last page he would take every colour combination to read, but black and white. He showered and ate and watched some boring soap opera on TV and then he went to bed and then he read. He was just about to turn out the light, that he remembered the flower. Half eager, half annoyed he was getting up, he searched his jacket, then went back to bed, feeling the texture of the flower on his fingers. At first he just just looked at it from a distance - just a pretty flower. But when he lifted the petals, when he looked up close, he noticed just how much work really had to go into it. He analyzed it. There were three sizes of petals; each petal was most definitely cut by hand because even though they were even, you could see a crooked edge here and there. The yellow looked printed, definitely. But the red was painted on, probably with watercolours (bless his Art classes in High School).

Just at that moment, his phone beeped. His iPhone signalled that Anthony, or 'Ony, as Anthony preferred, texted him. 'Dude drop the suit and come out. i'm at de alaska' Anthony was his friend, he could say. He was in his year, and somehow he managed to pass in between all the drinking and partying. Blaine had yet to figure out how.  
'No way. Too tired.'  
'Its friday deres no nos. ill be looking 4 ur ass in 20'  
'Just give me a night off.'  
'no'  
Blaine sighed and lifted the cover off himself. Alaska was one of those half bars, half clubs, 'Ony's favourite, so basically if you refused to come when he was there, he would come to you and bang on your door half the night. And so ten minutes later Blaine was half way to the bar. He wore his usual off-work clothes, simple dark jeans, button-up and a cardigan. He left his hair messy, only kind-of combing through them.

Part, no, a particle of him hoped he would find 'The Man' as he passed the spot of their meeting, but it was silly of course, at it was nearing ten in the evening. He was probably...somewhere, just...sleeping or something. Blaine shuddered at the thought where the man must sleep. He's probably cold. And hungry. He thought then, it was silly to ponder so much over a homeless man selling flowers, and that was it. He only had one question, to no one in particular. What the hell, a man that looked so young, definitely younger than himself, was doing on the streets of NY. He kind of looked like taken from a classic Hollywood movie, minus the dirt, plus some designer clothes. There wasn't any more time to think about it though, As he saw large printed, neon framed, 'ALASKA' a few feet away. He entered and sent 'Ony a quick text saying he'll be at the bar. Then he ordered a pint of Desperados and sat on a bar stool, people-watching. 'BLAINERS!' Oh great. 'Ony was already drunk. Like, very drunk. ''Ony. I told you not to call me that.'

'Aren't you a ray of sunshine!' They both yelled over the crowd.  
'Yeah, I know. That's exactly how I feel.'  
'Cheer up man! Come on, let's dance!' Oh, did I forget to mention that Ony was kind of what they call a 'gay drunk'? Completely straight on daily basis, but there has to be something deep in there, that blends boundries and he tends to enjoy just...acting gay, and I mean this in the least offending manner; he literally, just, acts gay. Dancing with other guys, being overly flirty, he even made out with a few, for different reasons like bets and such. Needless to say, Ony never got a female date to bring back home.  
'I'm not dancing with you. Where's the rest?'  
Ony rolled his eyes. 'Always so optimistic. Karlah went off, she's going home tomorrow morning and wanted to sleep, Andy's down there with that blonde hottie' he pointed nowhere in particular 'and Ler is in a bathroom stall, fucking one of the strippers. He's lucky, she's hot.'  
'And she's a slut. So it's just you and me?'  
'Just you and me, Blainers. Wanna hook up?' Ony trailed his finger down Blaine's torso, and Blaine whipped it away, then put his hand to his chest, smiling seductively.  
Oh, you! Always the charmer. But I'm not an easy date, cowboy!'  
'ROUND FOR B RIGHT HERE! AND ME!' Ony roared out.

After a while, Andy came back with his blonde, and later on, Ler strolled out of the bathroom, with his 'swag' set to full volume. And as much as Blaine hated his friends, he loved them as well. It was nearing midnight when Blaine saw Him. At first, and hell, the next morning, he thought it was just a drink induced hallucination. Or like, a twin. But neither of those ever made sense as Blaine had only two beers and it was doubtful he'd see His twin on the dancefloor the very same day. He was laughing and dancing, holding a beer in his hand.  
And then He saw Blaine as well. Maybe in his drunk mind he expected time to slow down or something, but the reality was, that He froze, then made a face as if he just saw someone getting murdered, then ran away. Well. Maybe not away, but off. Somewhere. Blending into the crowd. 'I'll be right back' Blaine muttered under his breath and took off after Him. He saw His hair a few times, but he disappeared again and again, until Blaine found himself in the dirty bathrooms.

'I know you're in here. Why were you running away?'  
'Why wouldn't I?' The voice came from the last stall, and Blaine walked up to it. 'Why didn't you just come up?'  
'Why did you chase me?'  
This pattern of questions was annoying Blaine.  
'Because you ran off.'  
'Oh so you run after every person that starts running?'  
'Basically, yeah.'  
'Creeeep.' Blaine laughed, geniually but automatically, because He somehow goes from running away to being mysterious to...joking? and Blaine was trying to put it all straight in his head. The alcohol didn't help.  
'Come on out.'  
And He did. He looked both different and the same that this afternoon. Blaine could see He washed his face, but the bruises remained; his hair was still combed,this time almost into a hairdo that could only be held up by hairspray, but wasn't, so it kind of just...flopped. His clothes were the same (duh?)  
'Well. Um. Hi. Where do I begin?'  
' I haven't a clue.'  
'Well, for starters. Are you really homeless?'  
'I never said I was.' He said, deadpanned. 'But yes, I am.'  
'O...kay? I'm itching to ask why were you running away, but firstly, what the hell are you doing in here?'  
'Um...same thing as you?'  
'But...you're homeless, I mean uh, homless people d..drink on the, the stre-' One bitch glare from Him, and red leaked back on Blaine's face.  
'Look.' He sighed. 'Just because I'm homeless...wait..' he laughed. 'that sounds ridiculous even to me. I..I just...I sell by day, party at night. One of the perks of being homeless is that you can do whatever you damn please.' 'But if you have the money for bars, then why the hell won't you save up for, I don't know, a place to live?'  
'Blaine Anderson. That's it, right? I remember cause not many men in suits introduce themselves to me. Anyway. I have never bought myself a single drink. Beer, sometimes, but that's cheap. Drinks, other people buy me these.'  
'So the money goes to...?'  
'Hey, are you a tax office, or what. But whatever, I buy more paper and crafts.'  
'Food?' 'Sometimes.'  
'Oh...' Blaine was sort of confused. He did have some money, he wasn't a drunk, yet he preferred being in bars to food? He wanted to ask the question, but he didn't want to scare Him away. Speaking of... 'And you were running away because...?'  
'Because that's my little secret. 'Wow, you were being so much talkative than earlier on, I thought I was actually getting somewhere.'

I'm not talkative. I'm drunk. Now, too much talking, not enough making out.'  
'Wha-' Blaine never finished his question, because the Man's lips were on his own and God, why does this feel good, why is he kissing me, why am I kissing him back how the hell does a homeless man afford a toothbrush and toothpaste (this one definitely did) and He probably had a Pina Colada earlier on because he felt the pinapple and oh gosh, too much thinking, not enough making out.  
After what it seemed like hours, or minutes, or, whatever gave the alcohol enough time to process his head into some spinny sphere, He pulled back, and smiled. 'See? I told you. Drunk as shit.' He headed towards the door then. 'Wait! What's your name?'  
'You can call me...gosh so many to pick from...let's go with...Lein.


	2. Chapter 2

Lein. The hell kind of name was that? Obviously, not His own, but to make it up? Maybe Lein, as in Blaine. But that would be sort of stupid. So many questions as he laid in bed, but the elephant in the room still remained un processed. What the fuck happened?

Monday afternoon, he purposely picked the same street to walk home. This time he saw Lein from afar, and made sure that his quarters didn't land in another sissy-pissy homeless man's cup, until he got to him.

'Hi, Lein. I think we've some business to discuss, no?' He didn't mean it to come out so, well, pissy but it just did.

'Yeah? Would you like to buy some flowers? Blaine, right? This is my new favourite.' he said holding up a flower he was currently making. 'It's a tiger lily, that, 'he pointed with his chin, 'is one I made earlier.'

'No, um, that's not what I mean and you know it. I meant...I meant Friday.'

'Oh, the kiss-miss?'

'You didn't miss.' Blaine almost growled. This was getting annoying. Lein was getting annoying.

'No, I did alright, but you went kind of sloppy here and there, almost missing at time. Hence, kiss-miss.'

Um, wow, thanks? Blaine shook his head and crouched. He's not going to intimidate him.

'Whatever. What I mean is, why?'

Lein put down his flower and stilled for a split second.

'I told you. 'See ,drunk as shit' were the exact words I used I believe.'

'Not drunk enough to forget the quotes.'

'Never. Look.' Lein let out a sigh. 'Is this about a random homeless man kissing you?'

'No, it's not. It's about a random man kissing me.'

'So..you're straight? Crap, I must've really misjudged this time. I could've sworn my gaydar was off limits. Isn't that awkward.'

'No..just..it's about a random person kissing me.'

'You've never done one night stands? You should. They're fun.'

'Yes, I mean, no, I mean, why do you care? If I have, then it would be consentual and we'd both talk before that. Or at least have a drink'

'Let's see...' Lein started counting on his fingers. 'Conversation? Check. Drink? Well, we were apart for that part,but yeah, still, check. Consentual? I suppose I never asked you, but I'm pretty sure I remember your consent being apparent, even if sloppy.

Blaine measured Lein up and down. He was either teasing or making fun of Blaine, he couldn't decide. 'Can we get serious?'

'Woah woah, slow down cowboy. Not sure if I'm up for steady just yet. Give me ten more years and I'm down.'

'Oh. We can't. Ok.' He said it more to himself than to anyone else, and got back up. 'Those tiger lilies are pretty.' He said as he walked away. Right now, the entire world could go into war and he wouldn't care; he was humiliated, yet again. He needed being alone. And a cold shower. The weather can go fuck itself.

It was maybe twenty seconds after he got home that the bell rang. Blaine rolled his eyes and opened the door, with a bored expression. But wait, that was Lein leaning against the wall? What the...

'Aren't you a ray of sunshine.'

There was a moment of silence as Blaine processed. What was this, short-circut Blaine's brain week?

'Ye..yeah, I've heard that before. What are you..oh?'

He was stratled as he looked at his very own wallet in Lein's hand. 'You forgot this.'

'N..no I didn't, I didn't even take it out!

'Yeah, ok, I stole it. Didn't take anything from it, except that you did your driving license in Ohio. Go Ohio! Stop staring, gosh, here, count the money!' Blaine took the wallet silently, thinking once again, what order should the questions come in.

'Why did you steal it?'

'So I have a reason to be here, cupcake.' Wait, wow, woah, that's a very different Lein from Lein on Friday afternoon and Lein in the club. Still as...um, affectionate as right after the damned kiss-miss (Which Blaine still believed wasn't a miss at all, thank you very much), even more so, and not at all awkwardly uncomfortable as the first time they met.

'Now, two at once, don't let your brain overheat.'

Lein smirked. 'Quick learner, aren't you.'

'Yeah, well, one, why would you want to be here? And two, how did you find you way here?'

'Wait. Brain overheating. Can I get a glass of water?' There was a tiny shake in Lein's voice at the question and his expression changed.

'Yeah, sure, come in?' Whether Lein was someone Blaine just met or knew for years, he couldn't refuse a glass of water to anyone in this weather. Lein looked surprised at the invitation, as he walked in to the apartment.

Blaine sighed. 'Sit down' and then motioned the couch.

Fifteen minutes later, Blaine learned that Lein followed him home, and he wanted to do just that because 'it was his little secret'. In other words, Blaine was getting nowhere.

Alrighty. Time for a different approach.

'Would you like to have something to eat? Or have a shower maybe? I know cold showers are a blessing in this heat.'

Holy crap. When was the last time he had seen a proper bathroom? With a clean shower and shampoos and lotions and and good quality shaving creams and razors, not the shit he was forced to buy.

He heard a slight knock on the door. 'Um, yes?'

'I'm leaving a towel, sweatpants, some new underwear and a shirt here. There's also a razor if you need it, and a toothbrush. Feel free to use anything that's in there. I'll be in the living room!'

Wow. 'T...thank you.'

He heard a distant 'Anytime' and he was alone again.

Holy.

Crap.

Kurt couldn't honestly explain why he kissed Blaine. Or why he was so teasing/snarky today. Or why did he steal Blaine's wallet. Or, for that matter, why did he follow Blaine home. You could say he was sort of drawn to him. He was the first person in years to be this...nice to Kurt. Kurt missed nice people.

He let the cool water soothe his body; Blaine didn't appear to have an extra sponge so he just used his hand as he rubbed in a vanilla-scented body wash.

Kurt Hummel treated himself as sort of a joke. Kind of stereotypical gay man, that tries to remain fabulous even when money's too thin for shelter or food. But more of an insane homeless man that spent most of his money on crafts, and a lot bit on shaving creams, razors and other things to still look good, and the remaining quarters on nightlife. What homeless man has a nightlife? Yet, thanks to his nightlife, Brian sometimes lets him sleep in the back of the bar after he closes.

He knew though, that this was just his own argument; in reality, he did everything not to look homeless as he walked down the pavements of Central Park. Because, though all these people can't see it, it would be a sign of just how much Kurt Hummel has failed life.

To Blaine, Kurt was definitely an insane homeless man. He couldn't even imagine the questions going through Blaine's head. The fuck did I just encounter, a sassy homeless gay man who gives up food for bars and prefers clean-shave to a place to sleep?

Well ok. Maybe Kurt Hummel was this fabulous gay man that tries to remain fabulous, no matter the situation.

He made himself giggle with that thought, as he turned off the shower. One last note? Ah, the confused puppy face Blaine makes at Kurt's awfully confusing respones. Ah the puppy face.

'Hey, Jack' Lein said quietly, in a cheerful voice

'Wha-Really Lein? Really?' Lein giggled. 'What is it this time, I'm listening'

'You make puppy faces. And the only dog breed I remembered while in the shower was Jack Russell, so, Jack.'

'You thought of me in the shower? Blaine said and smirked because, finally, he managed to out-talk Lein.

'Well, look at you, can't help myself.'

Not for long.

'Anyway. I made some sort of food, it's on the kitchen counter. Eat here, maybe we'll have a proper conversation.'

'T...hanks...'

'Where did you learn to make flowers?'

'A few years ago, soon after I...first came to New York...' Oh. So now we know Lein isn't from New York, Blaine noted. 'I went to Central park with..with my friend. And we found this old lady selling flowers, just like the ones I make now. We sat with her for a few hours and she taught me the Dahlia and the Tulip. The rest just kind of comes to you.'

It was quite late by now, maybe 9pm, maybe 11pm. Neither of them really knew; they just talked. Not about their background; just recent things. But they were both tired, and kind of loopy.

'Where did Lein come from? I figured it's not your real name, so, I'm just wondering.'

'Porcelain. Back...back in high school, the cheerleading capitan used to call me that. Because of my skin. Why are you studying law? I mean, is that what you wanted?'

'No. I...I came here to sing. To debut my album. But it...didn't exactly work out and I settled for law.' Blaine took a deep breath. 'Lein, what is your real name?'

Blaine felt scanned then, by those piercing blue eyes, which, even though only lit by the faint light from the kitchen, seemed to radiate themselves. He could see Lein was thinking whether to trust him or not, and he once again wondered why Lein couldn't trust people enough for a simple introduction. But then Lein took a deep breath and said.

'Kurt. My name is Kurt...Hummel.' He was looking at Blaine, expecting some sort of reaction; sort of like a scared animal. Blaine got up and walked over to Kurt.

'Kurt Hummel.' He said, reaching out his arm. 'My name is Blaine Anderson. I am very pleased to meet you.'

Blaine didn't let Kurt go back to wherever he was living; he couldn't. So that night Kurt slept on the (quite comfortable) couch under a blanket, and Blaine slept in his own bedroom, without a blanket. It was too damn hot anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

'Don't you dare leave while I'm at work! I am not finished with you, Mr. Hummel! And eat your breakfast!' Blaine called out, heading out the door.

'Okay mommy, I'll be good!' Kurt answered with a laugh. Which died as abruptly as the door closing.

He sat there wondering when is the last time he honest-to-god laughed, when sober. This full-hearted laugh that just came out of him? It felt alien. He sorta felt as if he was dreaming. He was afraid to believe the dream, knowing that sooner or later, he'll go back on the streets, whether tonight or next week. But for now it was good. Following Blaine home was good, not because he finally had somewhere to live, but because actual conversation was good. Kurt needed to pay Blaine back. Somehow.

As he ate the cereal, there was a certain plan forming in his head.

He checked his budget; he had $37.56. Enough for what he had in mind, with some bracket, so that he wasn't completely broke once he's back on the streets. He grabbed the extra keys Blaine left him, then headed out.

* * *

'Kurt? Ah..what the hell...Kurt? What's with the flowers on the door-holy shit.'

Okay. He was looking at his apartment...right? Yes...but...there were flowers...everywhere. On the tables, on the chairs, on the counters and the TV, on the bookcases and CD cases, there was a huge Dahlia on the coffee table and then there was Kurt...sitting on the couch, smiling, waiting for some sort of response.

'I...wow, Kurt. I don't even know what to say.'

'Wait til you look in your drawers, I mean, I didn't go through your stuff, I just threw them in there, hope that's alright, but yeah, what do you think?' Kurt was flushed and his eyes were sparkling with happiness because...Blaine didn't have an answer for because. But wow.

'You made...all that?'

'Yes!' Kurt's voice went up like two octaves. 'Well. Some of them I made to sell, few days ago, but most of them are simple to do so yeah, I had time.'

'These are amazing. Thank you.' Blaine walked up to Kurt, and crushed him in a hug. 'But why?'

'I wanted to thank you...for the food, for the couch, and mostly for letting me talk. Soon this...' Kurt motioned around the living room. 'Will be over for me, but I still want to thank you.'

'Wha-why would it be over?'

'Well, you don't plan to keep me here forever, do you, Mister?'

'And what if I do?'`Blaine said, but honestly, he didn't think about it too well. He just...did what felt right last night. And it still feels right today.

'Well then, I'm gonna have to make a lot more flowers. Why don't you help me?'

Blaine chuckled. 'How? I can't make flowers.'

'I'll teach you. Dahlia. Just because even though it's not my favourite outcome, it's my favourite to make.'

'Kurt, I..I can't I have wo-' Blaine stopped as Kurt, honest to god, pouted.

'Blaaaaaaaaaaineeeeee...come ooooon!'

'Alright alright. Just one flower.'

'Yay!' Kurt squeeled. 'Ok, sit down, first you gotta make three circles of three sizes...'

It was mesmerising watching Kurt work. How his fingers curled around each petal, his facial expressions, how his eyes shone...just, how happy it made him. Blaine hasn't seen Kurt this happy since he met him last Friday. And it made Blaine proud that, in some way, he was the one to cause it.

Making that flower wasn't really hard. But it was really time consuming, and Blaine wondered how Kurt had the patience to hand cut and curl each leaf. He asked him about it, and Kurt just cheerfully answered: 'Because that's the only thing that makes me happy anymore, cupcake!'

Finally, after at least an hour (which felt like a minute), the flower was done. Kurt was looking at it, but Blaine was looking at Kurt. He kept telling himself: 'now or never, now or never, now or never.'

'-Laine?'

'Hm? Uh, sorry...'

'May I ask what were you looking at?' Kurt said with a smirk.

Now or never.

And he kissed Kurt.

It wasn't the first time they kissed but this time, it was different; for one, they were sober, and for two, they weren't in some obscure bathroom, but in Blaine's apartment.

And when Blaine pulled away, he saw shyness in Kurt's eyes, because both of them realized that Blaine wouldn't do it, had he not meant it. Whether it was this, or something else, Kurt suddenly lauched himself at Blaine, enveloping him with his arms and spinning around in Blaine's head with his kiss, pushing both of them down on the couch. They both knew it wasn't a time for rushed, horny grinding; but for passionate make out, maybe with a grab here and there. And Blaine did just that; sliding his hand down Kurt's back, then following the curve, squeezing Kurt's ass, pulling him up; closer. They stayed like that for a long time; kissing, breathing each other's scent, sleeping. When Blaine woke up, the sun was just rising and he was really really stiff with Kurt laying on top of him all night.

* * *

He glanced at the clock; 5:36am. A full minute later, he realized that the pile of to-sort cases still laid on the dresser in the hallway. He gently pushed Kurt off himself, onto the couch as he slid off himself. Kurt murmured something about why Blaine is getting up, and how much of an idiot it makes him, but was sound asleep just a second later.

Kurt didn't even wake up when Blaine showered, worked with the cases, ate breakfast, made breakfast for Kurt, or left a $20 bill and a note that asked him nicely if he could please get some milk, bread, and a sponge for himself.

He didn't even wake up as Blaine left for work.

* * *

Kurt woke up just past midday, and probably only because he really needed to pee. He didn't quite understand why he slept so well for so long, and he didn't want to dwell on why there was a silly grin on his face.

When his stomach churned, he decided it was time for brunch. As he walked into the kitchen, he noticed Blaine already made him breakfast. Then he noticed the note and the money. He barely managed to read the short letter and the grocery list, before his vision was blurred. He bit back the tears, and re-read the list, and this time his eyes burned so bad he let the tears fall freely. Blaine gave him a grocery list. And left him money. And wanted him to buy a sponge.

Blaine Anderson was way too casual about a random man living in his house. Yeah they made out yesterday (Kurt was pleased to notice it wasn't another kiss-miss and indeed Blaine is only sloppy when drunk) and they slept on one sofa (total accident), but still, they've known each other since Friday and this is not what Kurt is used to. He is not used to being...cared for, cared about, to hoping and being happy. He gave up on that two years ago and now, at twenty-four he was not jumping back into it. Because there will come a day, pretty soon, when Kurt will no longer be welcome at Blaine's house. Because he's Kurt. Because that's all that waiting for him any more since his short-lived fucked career. It might just as well be now.

It didn't take Kurt long to change back into his jeans, shirt and grab his coat and a plastic bag. He gathered the flowers also; he would need them. He left all his things the door at the last minute, and came back for the $20. After going to the shop and buying the groceries (and not the sponge) he once again grabbed his pathetic lugagge and headed out.

* * *

Blaine came back to a very an eerily quiet house. In two days, he got used to at least the TV being on when he came home, or the radio. But nope, it was quiet, too quiet.

He slowly put away his present for Kurt (scrapbooking paper, glitters, paints) and with his brows furrowed he checked each room for any sign of life. He made a full circle, back into the hallway, then checked 'Kurt's drawer'. Nothing. It only hit him though, when he realized there weren't any paper flowers around the house. Without thinking, he grabbed his keys and left the house.

Kurt wasn't in his usual spot when Blaine arrived at the place of their first meeting. That's alright. He'll have to come back eventually. Blaine sat down by the wall, waiting. A few people dropped him quarters and at first, he wondered how could he be mistaken for a homeless man; then he realized he was just as invisible to them and all those homeless people were invisible to him when he dropped his quarter. Just a mass of something that wants your money. Ouch. That didn't feel good.

He waited for two full hours. By the end, his blazer was off, and tie loosened; he didn't want to think about the state of his hair. How could anyone handle all day in this sun?

He realized though, Kurt wasn't coming. With regret overcoming his body, he headed home. He'll try again tomorrow. After all, he shouldn't miss a man he's known for two days.

* * *

Blaine couldn't sleep that night. He kept having nightmares of Kurt being killed out there on the streets, and he kept waking up almost screaming, then not being able to fall asleep for an hour. Rinse and repeat. In other words, by the time the morning came, he was exhausted.

* * *

It felt like the slowest day at work ever. Blaine wanted to die by the end of it. He was worried about Kurt (which was ridiculous, Kurt handled God-knows-how-long out of the streets), being pissed at Kurt (why the hell didn't he atleast go to where I found him first?) and being generally bored with work and papers and numbers and words.

He headed towards The Spot, as he named it, right after work. This time with a bottle of water. As he expected, Kurt wasn't there. Blaine sat down once again. In the next two hours he once again stripped himself off the blazer and the tie, and drank the entire bottle, craving more. He watched all these by-passers, realizing he was one of them. Just last week. Another businessman wannaberespected. How stupid he was. It was a whole new perspective, sitting on the ground.

Once again, he came home alone.

* * *

Blaine opened his eyes, only to have them burned out my flashy LED alarm clock. It read 3.26am. What the hell woke him up? He didn't recall another nightmare. But then it happened again. Knocking on the door, loud enough for him to hear, but still rather weak.

Half-asleep, he dragged himself to the door and opened it. It took him a minute to adjust to the bright light of the corridors, but then he looked down, and he caught something half-sitting, half-laying down. When his still asleep brain processed this, his eyes widened in surprise.

'Kurt?'


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you for all your kind reviews. They mean the world to me, seriously. I'm sorry this chapter is so short, but I've been really busy. Next one, I'll try to make extra long.**

* * *

Kurt was passed out for thirteen hours exactly. After Blaine dragged him home and into his own bed, and had already made the decision of calling out of work, (it was Friday anyway) he sat on bed himself with a cup of coffee. And then another. He passed out around six, and woke up at eight, immidately calling into work. They weren't happy, but they'd deal.

He tried eating breakfast then but he maybe ate two bites before pushing the plate away with disgust. That's when he started timing it. It was about 3:30 when Kurt showed up, so six hours already passed. His stomach made weird twists and turns, more annoying with time. And he still hasn't gotten to really ackowledging Kurt's state.

Which was, in simple words, heartbreaking. His face was bruised, with chunks of dried blood. He seemed to have lost even more weight in those two days, and his skin was so light, it was almost gray. At eleven, he decided to wash Kurt. He made his best not to look too much at his 'down there' area, but gave up when he saw the bruising on his penis as well. He must've been kicked there numerous times. If you'd ask him, Blaine would never admit he was crying while cleaning Kurt up, and dressing him into his pyjamas.

He spent the next few hours pacing around the room, shaking with nervousness.

Kurt woke up at when time was nearing five. Blaine was just going through his sixth coffee when Kurt let out a moan (of pain?) and his eyes fluttered open. The cup landed on the floor, and Blaine was over Kurt's face immidately.

'Kurt? Are you okay?'

'Mmhm, with your pretty face over mine, I'm perfect.' He expected Blaine to laugh, or chuckle with relief, but Blaine started crying, no, sobbing, complete with sheet-clutching.

'Hey, hey, Blainers, I'm fine...shhh now...' Kurt grabbed Blaine with his weak arms and pulled him up. Blaine clutched onto Kurt's pyjamas, and chanted, hiccuping. 'Don't ever to this again, don't, don't ever do this, ever, ever. Never again'

'Shush now. I can't promise you that, I don't even know what I'm doing it's good for no-'

'NO! Ever. You can't ever do this to me. Don't just disappear without a word, don't come back like that, don't disappear at all, just stay, please stay...' He started off screaming in Kurt's face but his body betrayed him and once again, he fell onto Kurt's chest.

'Blaine...wow, um...shh, it's alright, I promise.'

Blaine fell asleep soon, still swallowing his own tears. Kurt fell asleep shortly after that, his own tears leaving trails on his face.

* * *

Kurt was first to wake up. He hoped to gently push Blaine off of himself and go to the bathroom, but Blaine woke up with his first move. Their both eyes were puffy maybe Blaine's more so, but there was something unsaid about it. 'I somehow care about you enough to cry for you. You remember that.'

Blaine was first to break the silence, with a simple: 'You go to the bathroom. I'll make food.'

Kurt just nodded.

Just ten minutes later they were both sitting at the coffee table, eating in silence. Kurt waited for Blaine to ask The Question, but when he realized he won't, he started himself.

'The evening I left, some drunk guys were passing my alley. They decided it would be fun to mug the homeless guy, and then they beat me up 'so I don't remember anything'. I did remember but I was also in too much pain to move.' He just decided to say it as it was. No hiding anything. 'So I spent the rest of the night and half the next day there. I didn't have any money or flowers to sell so I kind of just laid there and then walked around the city for a bit...I didn't...I couldn't come back because...because I was too proud. The next night I was too thirsty and too hungry to care about my pride. I somehow managed to come here...but I don't remember anything after I got to the main door, downstairs.'

'I found you laying at my doorstep. And then you passed out.'

'I'm sorry.'

'The only thing you should be sorry about is that you haven't told me yet why you...left.'

'Because that's my-'

'No Kurt, it's NOT your little secret! You're living in my house, we made out, you came back almost dead, so if anything, it's our little secret!' Kurt flinched; he didn't expect Blaine to burst out like that. He kept quiet for a long time.

'Sponge. You told me to buy a sponge for myself.' He looked at Blaine expecting him to understand but no, he was looking at Kurt as if he had just said he was a transformer.

'Ughhhm. God, I'm really not good at talking feelings. I...you made me feel cared for. Domesticated me. I'm not used to that. I didn't expect it so I freaked out. Except that it came back and bit me in the ass.'

Blaine ran a hand through his hair. 'I...I don't know what to say to you. I want to be mad at you, but you're so damn...fragile. Are you sure you didn't break anything?'

'Yes, now come here and hug me.'

They spent the rest of the day snuggling and watching bad soap operas. They slept in Blaine's bed, but with a reasonable space between them, and Kurt still woke up enveloped in Blaine's arms.

Because most of Kurt's weakness was caused by dehydration, he felt well enough on Saturday to move about on his own. They, cheesily, made cookies and cupcakes, then ate ice cream and laughed. Blaine presented his gift for Kurt and Kurt rewarded him with a chaste kiss. They made more flowers; Kurt concentrated on Tiger Lillies while Blaine made Dahlia petals. Kurt was left breathless from laughing as Blaine danced to his reendition of It's Not Unusual, as it came on the TV. ('Oh my God I love that song!' ' Blaine what are you...oh gosh. oh gosh. sing with it!' 'No way in hell, just watch me dance' 'what WAS that move?')

In the evening, they had a glass of wine each, then Kurt found Blaine's collection of whisky, so after Blaine's hesistance, they drank one, two, three glasses each. They stayed up until late night.

Kurt was in the middle of saying something, but Blaine didn't listen; once again he ended up staring at Kurt's lips and shushed him with a quick sentence. 'Shut up and kiss me'. And Kurt did, and everything went hazy again. He expected the night to end like this but no, Kurt pulled away.

'Whaat, am I sloppy again?' Blaine slurred.

'Yeah, a bit. But that's not why...'

'Why then? That was good, wasn't it?'

'Yeah...it was...almost too good. Look Blaine. I'm starting to care about you. Too much. I'm starting to like the way you smile, the way your stupid hair bounces, the way your eyes sparkle. And that's something I promised myself would never happen, not again. Not ever. And then you, then you show up like that...being nice, just nice, and that's all it took. I tried to play it off, be confident, but I can't any more. I can't kiss you any more because it tastes just too good.' Kurt's voice went up an octave, and he was shaking. Blaine tried to sober up but he couldn't, if anything, he made it worse.

'Why are you telling me this?' There was a pause as Kurt sniffled and tried not to fall apart.

'Because you won't remember anything in the morning. I suppose it doesn't matter then. Kiss me.'

And Blaine did, because he was too drunk to even think.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This chapter doesn't do anything really to move the story forward, as per se. It's mostly devoted to Kurt's past, because I realized it's perfect timing to get it out there. Again, thank you so much for your kind reviews on the previous chapter, they made my day.**

* * *

Kurt woke up to the sound of Blaine's muffled voice through the door. He didn't hear any other voices, so Blaine was either talking to himself (plausible) or speaking on the phone (definite). At first it sounded as if Blaine was yelling to the phone; he was definitely excited. Kurt contemplated getting up, but he realized Blaine was moving around, clattering plates, so the 'excitement' wasn't bad. He decided to give Blaine a moment alone...which didn't stop him from listening. It was still muffled, and Kurt couldn't hear most of what Blaine was saying, but as Blaine got closer and moved away from the bedroom door, he managed to hear snippets of the conversation

'Emily? Really? You reme...ame? No...obvious...you can imagine. Oh, yeah, you know me guy...night. ...In my bed...now. No, I'm serious.' Kurt would never admit he tensed up at 'new guy every (?) night' line, before realizing Blaine was sarcastic. Blaine must've stopped near the door because Kurt could hear more clearly now. 'Kurt. Last week. I know that's not how it works Coop, geeze. I didn't...pick him up from a bar. Yeah...no, we kinda...we've met in a bar...but we've met before that. Look, it's a long story, for another time. As long as...no! I mean yes...I mean I don't know.' Kurt could feel Blaine's distress through the door. 'I mean, we haven't done it. That's not why he's here. I have not! Well, maybe once or twice while we were, um, making out. Yes, making out. I mean, he does have...advantages. Well, for example, his...' That's when Blaine started moving again, and didn't walk close enough to the door until he hung up. Kurt was dying with curiosity. Advantages? What advantages did he have? He listened to more plates clattering and decided to finally get out of bed. He walked up to the door and opened them swiftly, to find Blaine right outside it. He wasn't expecting it so he jumped back with a gasp. Blaine, however, got the worse end. He was holding a tray with food and coffee on it, which, as he jumped backwards himself, dropped on the floor, splashing everywhere. They looked at each other open mouthed, Kurt's corner of the mouth already rising, and Blaine only managed to duck out 'Breakfast served' before collapsing into a fit of giggles, Kurt following him promptly.

'You...are ruining...my life...' Blaine breathed out between spurts of laughter. 'turning it...upside...down...I love that about you'

'Well how...do you...think I feel?' They both kneeled on the ground, still laughing, but collecting bits of broken mug on the tray. 'I never had...breakfast served to bed before.' He said grabbing a piece of omlette that stayed on the plate, away from glass, and ate it, sending Blaine into another giggle fit. 'WHAT?' Kurt said with his mouth full. 'You said that breakfast's served!'

'Oh my god. C'mere. Give me your omlette kiss.' Blaine said, pulling Kurt by his pyjamas and pressing a kiss onto his lips. Kurt's eyes snapped wide open before he relaxed; that kiss meant Blaine didn't remember anything Kurt said the previous night, just as he predicted.

'Mmm, omlette tastes sooo good on your lips.' Blaine said pulling away. And in that moment, Kurt couldnt hate and love Blaine more. Hate, because his heart was in his throat, trying to beat his way up, love, for the very same reasons.

'God, Anderson, is that the best you can come up with?'

Blaine laughed, getting on his feet. 'Hold on, I'll put some bleach on the stains, that should do it. You go to the living room, we'll have to share my plate, but there's enough.

* * *

'So who's Coop?'

'Cooper? Oh...my brother...did...did you hear our...conversation?' Blaine's face became fushchia coloured.

'No..no, I couldn't hear anything...not...not that I was trying to..I just heard that, you yelled out his name...I didn't know you had a brother...Cooper...Cooper Anderson...sounds familiar...' Kurt started thinking out loud. Blaine visibly shrunk. Oh, lets start the tale of two brothers again: One who made it and one who lost the game.

'Yeah...Coop used to be pretty famous...he was in a few commercials and then starred in Transformers 4 after I helped him with his audition...'

Kurt gasped. 'Oh! I know him! When that movie came out, my first year of college, Jamie dragged me to see it, because it was his birthday the day before and I promised him to do one thing for him and he wanted to see it so bad! I remember thinking 'gosh, that ass!' Kurt's eyes widened as he realized what he just babbled out.

'Well, I'm glad to hear that's what people remember from Transformers...I'll make sure to tell him that.' Blaine acted as though Kurt hasn't just babbled out an important chunk of his past; that he went to college, that there was someone named 'Jamie'...that he had a past.

And even though Blaine ignored it, Kurt was cursing himself for his stupidity. But it was too late, and he ended up staring wide-eyed at Blaine, looking for a sign that Blaine even heard that chunk of the monologue.

Blaine tried holding the stare, reassuring Kurt with his eyes, but his own curiosty ate him alive.

'Yeah, alright, I wanna know more about college and Jamie. But if you don't feel comfortable, then that's okay. I'll wait.'

'No, no... I suppose...I owe you at least that.'

'You don't owe me anything, Porcelain.' Kurt's expression hardened then.

'Well, actually, you gave me a place to live, and food to eat. I definitely owe you everything.'

'No. No, and let's just leave it at that.'

'Just get me a cup of hot chocolate. It's time I get it out anyway.'

'I'm from Lima, Ohio. Which is why 'Westerville, Ohio' on your driving license interested me that much. My mom died when I was eight years old, and I've been living with my dad only since then. Spoiler alert, he died in my first year of college, from a heart attack.

Anyway, I went to elementary, middle and high schools, as normal. In high school, I joined Glee club, which was one of the reasons why I got bullied throughout my whole high school. Since I was in middle school, I always liked singing. Then I discovered theatre...and Broadway. In high school, I met Rachel. Rachel too wanted to be on Broadway and her ambition to do so was overwhelming. And as annoying she was, as talented she was. Which is, very. Rachel and I became best friends and decided to move to New York together. We chose to go to NYADA...' Blaine's expression perked up at that. He went to NYADA too.

'And we did. I got in with my first audition, but Rachel choked. She got in too, though, after pulling a little stunt that included going to New York and literally knocking on Carmen Tibideux's door. ' Blaine hissed at that. Carmen Tibideux. Ouch. Then again, to get into NYADA while she was the auditioner? Shit, Kurt must be talented. '...she somehow got in. So we went, and we rented an apartment...I met Jamie there, in my first year. We got together within a month, which is quite weird for me, as I wasn't exactly the type to get in a relationship quickly. Jamie...developed a problem though. He liked his drink. A lot. Midway through the first year, Rachel decided to move to Paris, on a student exchange program or something. I couldn't afford an apartment by myself, so I moved in with Jamie. Which meant I drank with him most of the time.

It was like that for a year. Because a year later, I had managed to catch attention of a talent seeker. He came to school but because it was all done through school board, they basically told me that if I don't pass the audition, I'll lose my scholarship. The night before, I refused to drink and Jamie...He...he got mad. Really mad. He never...assaulted me really, but he held me down that night...and he...he poured a shot of vodka down my throat.' There were now tears rolling down Kurt's face and Blaine scooted closer, trying to put an arm around Kurt's shoulders, but Kurt swatted him away.

'I decided that I prefer to drink myself than have another shot poured in at once. The next day, I was really hungover. I went to that audition but my voice was really hoarse and I couldn't sing. Needless to say, the talent scout deemed me talentless. And I lost my scholarship. I could still attand school, if I paid the tuition. Which I of course, didn't have the money for. That evening, I came home and I was really pissed at Jamie, for obvious reasons. I started yelling, and he did too. He eventually ran out the door.

He didn't come back for a long time, so I decided to go to bed. I was waken up in the middle of he night by Jamie...and a guy he brought home.' Kurt was openly sobbing now, and Blaine held him, rocking him back and forth. 'We broke up, but it was his apartament. So I had a month to move out. Stupid me, I didn't go find a proper job. Instead, i kept on looking for plays to star in, for something...something that would prove that I'm not a failure. Surely enough, I didn't get anything and after a month , he quite literally threw me out on the streets. When I went to withdraw some money for a hotel room, it turned out he cleared my account. I basically had nothing. Spent a few nights with some homeless woman, stole a few coloured papers from the craft store...and boom, flowers. And I promised myself to never fall for anyone again. So far, it's working.

'Or is it?' Blaine asked, still holding Kurt tightly.

'Huh?'

'I didn't forget...what you've told me yesterday.'

'Oh my god.'

'Hey, Kurt, look at me.' Kurt looked up, his face streaked with tears and his eyes shining. 'I am never going to leave you. Unless you truly want it, I am planning to keep you around.'

There was silence as Kurt studied Blaine's eyes, trying to decipher whether he was telling the truth or not. He finally said:

'i don't believe you one bit.' Then closed the short distance between them with a deep kiss.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: A FEW VERY IMPORTANT PSA'S: After writing the 'I don't know how I'm going to serve customers' line, I realized, I never said something important. When I say that Blaine is going to work in the morning, I mean the coffee shop he works at, as mentioned in chapter 1. I have an entire timetable for his schedule but apparently I never mentioned it? His schedule is as follows: Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, he works at the coffee shop 9-11:30, then from 12 to 4pm at the law company, as an appricentship (I can't spell this word?) On Tuesday and Thursdays, he works at the coffee shop all day, 9-4. Sometimes he gets called in on the weekend (which explains why he 'took the same way home after work' on a Saturday, in Chapter 2.) but not often. I just...I somehow had it all in my head but never got it out.**

**Next. this isn't all storylines I've set out for this chapters, but after I hit the 2000th word, I realized I'll never fit it in there. This chapter begins on the same Sunday the previous chapter ended, and the next chapter will continue from the same moment this left off.**

**Bear with me.**

**I have the sex scene written, yes. But I decided to not put it in, because I didn't know how you'd all react, whether you'd want it or not. **

**Finally.**

**We all know that Kurt's birthday is on 27th of May (like Chris') and when I started writing this fic on 19th May 2019, I didn't even look at the dates. Writing this, I realized that in their world, it is Kurt's birthday, (and decided to add it in) I checked the days on the calendar. And boom? I got it right. The 19th of May 2019 is in fact a Friday, just like the 27th is a Monday. So go me and my psychic skills.**

**PS: Your reviews make my heart go wee, like super wee. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

'So, what are we?' Boom. The question they've both been silently dreading has finally been asked, by Blaine. That's, I suppose, is what late Sunday nights do to you, after you've kissed your...acquaintance? senseless. They were both kinda dizzy and they were both very loopy. Sometimes, at night, you say things you would never say on regular basis. And that was one of those nights.

'I don't know...Blaine...I...I don't know what I'm doing right now.' Kurt sighed.

'I've heard that before.'

'You have...' It wasn't a question, it was a confirmation.

'Kurt...listen. I don't want to rush things. I don't want to force you to something you don't want us to be. But...I've been hurt before, too. And this is very hard for me, too. And I'm...really, really confused about...what I'm feeling. I know that somehow, it's right. I just...I'm afraid, Kurt. Terrified.'

'Me too.'

'So, what are we?'

'We are...comfortable.'

'Yeah. We are. The couch's pretty cozy.'

'Hey, Blaine, wasn't it you that told me to stop making jokes in serious situations?' Kurt said with a laugh, slapping Blaine lightly. 'But I'm serious when I say it. We are comfortable. With each other. And I'm sorry...if that's not good enough for you, but that's all I can offer. I don't think I'm quite ready for a relationship...I'm still getting used to having a roof over my head and I keep wanting to run away because I feel like...I'm being a bother. And I hate to say it, but I'm still not over Jamie...what I had with him...was, I suppose, beautiful, for a while. And I imagined I'd spend the rest of my life with him...so it's hard.'

'Comfortable. We are comfortable.' Blaine said kissing Kurt's forehead. 'God this is gonna look great on Facebook relationship status: Comfortable.'

'Oh God. You are dumb.'

'I am smart.'

'No you are not. Now, come to bed, dumbass. I want my share of your suffocating snuggles on my birthday.'

'Wait, what?' Blaine replied, getting up slowly after Kurt.

'Yeah. It's been May 27th for twenty-six minutes exactly.'

'And you haven't told me before? Oh my God. How old are you again?'

'Still twenty-four. Whatever. It really doesn't matter at this point. Which doesn't mean I don't want my snuggles.'

'Oh, birthday boy, I'm gonna snuggle the hell out of you.' Kurt squealed and ran towards the bedroom. Blaine took off after him, running into him right before the bed, essentially tackling Kurt onto the bed. They fell together, breathless from laughing, and yes, somehow their mouths found each other again. And again. And again.

Their hands were trailing now, up and down each others bodies, and somewhere in between, their laughter fell silent, changing into little hitched breaths and eyes rolling back. Blaine found a good grip on Kurt's ass, pulling him up on to himself. Kurt sat up, quickly discarting his shirt. Blaine watched Kurt's face, and God, if it wasn't the sexiest thing he has ever seen. Kurt's eyes were really dark; it could've been the darkness of the room, but they were almost navy coloured now. His mouth slightly parted and his bottom lip trembling, and his chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm.

'Kurt, this is a very bad idea, I saw what those men did to your...penis when I was um, changing your clothes.'

'It doesn't hurt. I promise. And some of the bruising is off, the rest is kinda yellowish. Besides, I like a bit of pain. But I promise it doesn't hurt. But we don't have condoms...or lube.'

'Yeah, we do.' Blaine still wasn't sure if it was a good idea in Kurt's state. But fuck it.

Kurt raised his eyebrow, the side of his mouth curved up.

'You are judging me so hard right now. Coop thought it's a great, fun idea to get them for me as a Christmas gift. So that maybe I'll get laid then, or something.'

'Well, tell Cooper that today is your lucky day.' Kurt said, lowering himself back down, kissing Blaine again.

* * *

'Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.'

'Stop complaining!'

'I am not complaining, thank you very much.'

'Yes you are.' Kurt said, rolling and stretching around in bed. 'I am so not getting up.'

'Yeah. You must be exhausted.'

'You must be in pain.'

'I am. I have no idea how the hell am I gonna serve customers and then sit in that chair for three to four hours.'

'Don't act like it's the first time you've done it.'

'In a long time, yes.'

'Ouch. That explains a lot.'

'Hey!'

Kurt giggled. 'C'mere. Give me a kiss. I am going back to sleep.'

'Lucky bastard.'

* * *

Blaine liked to drink his coffee while reading the morning newspaper. (which was boring, but a requirement if you want to be an attroney.) It was the same stuff. Someone ruined the bins in Central Park, someone else almost won the Lotto, only missing by one number. Someone else...hold on. Blaine turned the page back. He must've been hallucinating. But no. it's there.

'Kurt? Kurt!'

Blaine almost burst into his own bedroom.

'Kurt, what is this?'

'Blaaaaaine, it's my birthday, let me sleeeeep...what's whaaat?'

'Well, birthday boy, New York apparently decided to celebrate your birthday all together. You're in New York Times.'

'I am in what? Blaine, are you crazy?' Kurt answered, still in sleep-daze, but at least trying to get out of it.

'There.' Blaine said sharply, throwing the newspaper on the bed. Kurt took it curiously, already searching with his eyes for whatever Blaine was fussing about.

And sure enough, he found it.

It was his own mugshot (from the first year old college yearbook, if he remembers right). It was under the Missing Persons tab. Underneath, it said.

Missing person:

Kurt Hummel, 24, has gone missing about three to four years ago. He can be recognized with the help of the photo enclosed, and was last seen leaving the NYADA campus. If you have any information, please contanct the New York Police Department, or else Rachel, at 169700289. Thank you.

'Rachel...Rachel...RACHEL! Oh my God she's so stupid, Blaine, phone, now, quick,' Kurt ducked out, already getting out of bed, tangling in to sheets on the way. By the time he was on his feet, Blaine was back with his own phone.

'What the hell happened?' he asked as he handed it over.

'I'll explain in a minute, Rachel, she's um, kinda intense.' Kurt said it while dialing the number included. Soon enough he was sitting on the bed, his face focused, his back straight as an arrow. He was listening to the beeps. Rachel answered on the third beep.'

'Hello, this is Rachel Berry.' She sounded tired, and really really worried.

'RACHEL YOU IDIOT!' Kurt screeched into the phone so loudly, that even Blaine flinched.

'...Kurt? Am I...Jackie, I think I'm having hallucinations' 'I told you to go to sleep' a voice answered somewhere in the background.'

'No you are not having halluciations Rachel Berry, but you will after I hit you twice, maybe trice to get your stupidity out of your head. Missing persons? In New York Times?'

'K...Kurt? What the hell? Where are you?'

'I'm safe, and you are dead. What the fuck are you doing back in New York? I thought you're staying in Europe!'

'No...No, I moved back a few weeks ago, a long story, but...Kurt...is it really you?'

Kurt sighed, rolling his eyes. 'Yes Rachel, it really is me.'

'Oh my God...Oh my GOD...OH MY GOD!' For the next part of squealing and screaming and other high pichted sounds, Kurt had to keep the phone away from him, an arm long distance.

'Are you done yet?'

'NO!'

'Well, finish up for now. My ears are dying for a break.'

He heard Rachel take a deep breath. 'Okay. I'm done. I am so confused. We have to meet up. Where are you?'

'Hold on.' Kurt covered the speaker with his hand and turned his attention to Blaine. 'She wants to meet up.'

'Um...well...do? I don't know, I'm so confused. Is this the Rachel? From high school?'

'Yeah...it's her...I want to meet her but I thought...she was part of my past, you know? I never thought I'll see her again, and yes, I'll explain after I get off the phone.

'Kurt. You can face your past. It's okay.' Blaine said, putting his arm around Kurt's shoulders, sitting beside him. 'You two will probably need your time alone, so why don't you invite her here while I'm at work?'

'No, no no...I'll need you.'

Kurt didn't notice Blaine's eyes getting suddenly shiny. 'Well, I'll tell you what. You tell her to meet you at Golden Beans, beside Central Park, at ten. And yeah, that's the name of the coffee shop I work at. Golden Beans.'

Kurt snorted. 'And you'll be there?'

'And I'll be there.'

Kurt closed his eyes, composing himself, then brought the phone back to his ear.

'Rachel?'

'YES?' Response came really loud and immidiate.

'I...do you know where Golden Beans, the coffe shop, is?'

'The one by Central Park?'

'Yeah...apparently. Can you meet me there at ten?'

'Sure, you do have a lot of explaining to do.'

'We both do.'

'Yeah. I'll see you then, so?'

'Yes. And Rachel? One more thing.'

'Yeah?'

'Call the goddammned NYPD and tell them I wasn't raped and brutally murdered, as you probably told them.'

'Um. Kidnapped.'

'Oh dear Lord.'

And with that he disconnected the call, turning to Blaine. He spoke before Blaine said anything.

'Rachel Berry. She...is what she is. Instense. Exaggerating. You should see the stunts she pulled sometimes. Before she moved to Paris, we had an argument...about something stupid, trivial. I didn't know her email address, because I never needed it before, seriously. Except her NYADA one. But one of those stunts she pulled? She left for Paris without us exchanging any contact information. I suppose she thought I'll call her or she'll call me...and I did. We kept in contact for a few months, emails, Skype. But I was busy and so was she. So it got rarer and rarer that I got an email from her or had time to reply to it. She told me she found a role in a French version of Wicked, as Elphaba of course, and that she isn't coming back. And so, I let her slip away. I never expected her to come back like this, or at all, but what is Rachel Berry without a grand entrence.

* * *

Blaine must've been at least just as nervous as Kurt, if not more. He kept looking over at Kurt who sat at the table by the window, sipping his coffee and nibbling on a cookie. Blaine already managed to mess up two orders, because he just couldn't concentrate.

Finally, a brunette with long dark brown hair and a red summer dress entered the coffee shop, searching with her eyes nervously. Blaine looked over at Kurt. His mouth was slightly open and his eyes were wide. Yep. Must be Rachel. She finally found him, and after a moment of hesitation, she started walking towards him. Kurt got up on to his feet and ran into her arms. Blaine could see tears trailing down Kurt's cheeks, and when they turned in their embrace, Rachel's cheeks were also shiny from crying. It was so intimate, Blaine had to turn his gaze away.

They finally sat down and Blaine could see Kurt looking at him, pleading him to come over. He did, telling Jim to cover for him for a few minutes.

'Hello, my name is Blaine.'

'Rachel Berry.' She said, not concentrating. 'A medium frappucino with non fat milk, please.'

Blaine shouted the order back to Jim, but stayed put. She finally brought her eyes to him, confused.

'Yes?' Kurt snorted at that.

'Rachel...this is Blaine Anderson. I asked him to be here with us. I mean, he works here, but anyway, if it wasn't for him, I'd probably be dead.'

Rachel raised her eyebrows at that, but said nothing. Blaine sat down beside Kurt, and squeezed his hand under the table. Kurt didn't let him let go.

'So, Rachel...I know you want to know what happened to me, but I need to know, how the hell my name ended up in that newspaper.'

'You look awful.' Was her response. Kurt laughed. 'I do, yeah.'

'Well...I...I've been in Wicked all this time. Do you know how good I was in French version of Defying Gravity? So..sophisticated and...'

'Rachel.'

'Right. Anyway. One day I read this article, that they're reopening Wicked here...on Broadway. Can you believe that?'

'Yep. I read it, I remember. It's amazing.'

'Well few days later, I get, I get this email and they...they said that someone went talent scouting...and they came all the way to Paris...to see me perform...and I...they said they're offering me the role Kurt. They're offering me the role.

'What? On...on Broadway?'

'Yes! On Broadway, Kurt, I'm gonna be on Broadway.' Blaine was smart enough to get out of his seat. Lucky for him, because Kurt followed soon enough, tripping over his feet, grabbing Rachel and spinning her around. He kept saying 'I knew it! I knew you'll make it! Oh Rachel Berry, you are one of a kind.'

As they settled back down, Rachel continued.

'And my first thought was to write you, call you, whatever, because it was our dream, remember? Get ourselves on Broadway! But, but you weren't answering, anything so I decided to wait. I came here a few weeks ago and the first thing I did, was I went to Jamie's apartment, but someone else altogether lived there. So I took a trip to NYADA and with some convincing, by showing them my chequebook of course, they let me access your files and they found your old lectuers and they told me everything that happened. Oh Kurt! You poor thing. It's still not too la-'

'Rachel.'

She took a deep breath again. 'Okay. Anyway, it stated your address as Jamie's apartment but I already knew it was a dead end. So with a few more cheques, I managed to access Jamie's files but it only said he graduated, and that's it...I spent the next few weeks researching but I found nothing, and I finally decided to put up that ad last night and...oh Kurt, I'm so glad you're alive.

Blaine noticed just how ready to cry Kurt is again. He squeezed his hand tighter.

'Now. What happened to you, Kurt?'

Kurt told her everything. From what happened with Jamie (turns out that by 'they told me everything', Rachel meant Kurt's audition fail and inability to pay for tuition.) and how he ended up on the streets, and how Blaine found him. Rachel was sobbing.

'I can't...can't believe it...' she said hiccuping.

'It's alright Rachel. I told you it'll work out for you. I...dealt with it. Honestly, had I not ended up on the streets, I would've never met Blaine.'

'Oh yeah...who exactly are you, to each other?' Rachel asked, suddenly sobering up.

'We're...' Kurt started, unable to find the right word.

'Comforable. We're comfortable.' Blaine jumped in, and Kurt giggled at that, but Rachel looked more confused than ever.

'Comfortable.' Blaine confirmed.

'I suppose...' Kurt started. 'For the benefit of you finally closing your mouth, Rachel, we're...we're together. We're...boyfriends.' He said the last word after a long break, as if weighing it, seeing if it fits.

Rachel smiled, her eyes shining.

'Well, Kurt, I'm glad you found some happiness.' She covered his free hand with her own.

'And you, Miss Rachel Berry, are the best and the worst birthday present ever.'

'Oh yeah! It is your birthday!'

And then Blaine experienced the most professional, intense, and beautiful acapella version of 'Happy Birthday'.


	7. Chapter 7

When Blaine left for his lawyer job, Kurt and Rachel were still catching up. Actually, Blaine excused himself after twenty minutes, saying that he has to get back to work, which was only partially true. In all honesty, Blaine felt sort of jealous, and just kind of out of place; Kurt and Rachel kept mentioning all these names he didn't know, all these memories he wasn't a part of. In fact, he never saw Kurt speaking to anyone but himself since the day he met him. (Well, except for that few seconds in the bar, but it didn't really count, did it?)

And so, Blaine left the coffee shop annoyed; more at his own jealousy than anything else. It's not that Blaine wasn't happy for Kurt; he geniually was, happy that he found Rachel, happy he found someone to talk to about things that he couldn't talk about with Blaine, just because there wouldn't be a point. However, jealousy isn't a feeling you can control exactly. And as Blaine found out, this day wasn't going to end any better.

He was sitting in his cubicle, doing nothing out of ordinary. His thoughts kept running back to Kurt, and Blaine kept catching himself going for the phone, only to remember each time that Kurt doesn't have a phone. Then filing in his brain to buy him a phone. And all over again.

When he heard the heavy footsteps approaching, he pretended to work, instead of staring off into the distance.

'Anderson, don't pee yourself with excitement, but I've gotta case for you.'

'Huh? A case for me?'

'Well, it's Robinson's case but I put you on it with him. You're just going to observe and learn of whatever, and if you're a good boy, maybe Robinson's gonna let you ask a few questions. These are the files of the case and the files of the man we're gonna defend.' Wilson said, throwing two white files onto Blaine's desk. 'Friday. 10 in the morning. Courtroom sixteen. Not a second late, in fact, be early.' And Wilson was gone.

Blaine took the files in his hands warily, as if they were going to bite him. He contemplated calling his father to let him know, but decided he'll do it later. If at all.

He decided to look through the files of the man first.

* * *

'Name: James Christy

DoB: 8/16/1993

Occupation: Unemployed

Education:

Washington Elementary School, D.C.

Washiongton Middle School, D.C.

Washington High School, D.C.

New York Academy of Dramatic Arts, N.Y.

Record:

DUI, 04/12/2015 Full Details archive 32 row 009J

DUI, 11/3/2016 Full Details archive 32 row 024K

Public act of Violence 08/2/2017 Full Details archive 25 row 038F

* * *

Blaine furrowed his brows. It felt weird that he was suddenly hearing about all those people going to NYADA. There have to be other schools in New York.

He went on to the actual case then. James Christy was apparetly quite a short tempered one. He was accused of domestic violence against someone named Sean April. Sean April claimed he has been hit repeteviely for two continous years and that James Christy was literally trying to make him an alcoholic. In the additional notes, it said that when James was being arrested, he lashed out at the policeman and that he was intoxicated then as well.

It took Blaine a few moments to click, but when it did, it felt like someone punched him in the stomach. James Christy was Jamie. It all fit. Blaine has to defend Kurt's abusive ex-boyfriend.

* * *

When Blaine came home, Kurt wasn't there yet, so Blaine was destined to sitting outside his own apartment, as he gave Kurt his keys earlier on.

It gave him time to think:

If he took up the case,it would just feel wrong and he didn't think he could possibly defend someone who was, essentially, abusive towards his boyfriend.

On the other hand, if he didn't take up the case...well then, that's his whole life and career. Plus it's not like he had that much of a choice. It's not like Wilson kindly asked him whether he wanted the case or not. He just assumed Blaine did want it. And in the end, Blaine wanted it, it was just that...what were the chances, really?

At this moment, his phone rang, startling him.

Blaine, once again, knew who it was before he pulled out his cell phone.

'Blaine Anderson speaking, how can I help you?'

'Well, isn't it unfortunate that I have to find out from other people, that my son is after getting a case instead of getting a phone call from hm?'

'Dad, hi. I was gonna call you the minute I got home. I didn't want to tell you in a rush. '

'Where are you then if not home? It's way past your work time.'

'Um, the grocery store. Had to pick up some stuff.' I'm in the corridors dad, cause I gave someone I know for a week my home keys oh by the way it's my boyfriend and he's living with me.

At this point, Kurt finally got back. Blaine shushed him so Kurt just opened the door and let them both in, sensing Blaine's nervousness.

'Well, you better stock up well. Your mother and I decided we're not going to have time to visit you in August, so we'll be coming in about two weeks - we'll be able to celebrate your winning case.'

Oh god. Pressure. Pressure. They didn't have time to come in August? Bullshit. Pressure.

'Dad, that's great! Is...Cooper coming?'

'He is.'

'That's great!' At least I'll have him to keep me grounded. 'And for how long...'

'Around a week. We haven't decided yet.'

'That's great dad, I'm really happy. Listen, its getting late and I'm almost home, so...'

'Okay Blaine, I'll let you know about the flight details. Have a good night.'

'You two dad.'

The instant Blaine was off the phone, Kurt was standing by. Blaine briefly thought that, hey, he could get used to coming home to this.

'Bad day?' Kurt asked, pressing on Blaine's shoulders to make him sit down.. He then sat down beside him, and threw his legs over Blaine's lap.'

'Let's just say, you're a sight for my sore everything.'

Kurt snorted and Blaine's face turned burgundy.

'That's not even what I meant!'

'That's what I was thinking'

'Does that mean you were thinking of me in a certain situation?' Blaine was getting his verve back.

'Nope. Of us.'

Blaine stammered then, because now _he _thought of a certain situation. 'And I am hungry. Food. You left me sitting out there for hours.'

'Yeah, I'm so sorry. I completely forgot and I was having such good time with Rachel...'

'No no, it's okay. We'll just...get you a key. And a phone.

Kurt gaped at that but said nothing. They kissed a little then, and then Blaine made Kurt tell him about his day with Rachel, and as much as he wanted to listen, Blaine...knew none of the people mentioned, and only a few places rang a bell. All those books always mentioned how when you're crushing or in love with someone, you hang on to that person's every word. But either that was one of those romantic bullshit ideas or Blaine overestimated his feelings towards Kurt. He watched Kurt for a long time, listening to the sound of his voice (not necessarily what he was saying) and decided that it was the former - definitely one of those romanticated ideas. Because if he wasn't in love with Kurt, then he didn't know what he was. Which brought him to another thing...

'That sounds...amazing, Kurt.' He said quickly. 'I'm really glad you two finally caught up. And woah, Broadway. There's something I need to talk to you about though.'

Kurt raised his eyebrows. 'Something's wrong?'

'No, not wrong...just...I got a case today. That means...I'll be going to court on Friday and I'll observe, maybe ask a few questions.'

'Your tone of voice makes me think there's a catch.'

'There...is. I think. Before we go any further, can you tell me, what's Jamie's full name?'

'James Christy, what does he have to do with it?' Blaine kinda loved how there was no hesitance there, first Kurt answered the question, then asked his own, instead of becoming wary and closing off.

'Thought so...'

Kurt was looking at Blaine as if the latter's gone mad, so he grabbed the case and Jamie's file passed it to Kurt. Kurt opened the files and his gaze immediately dropped on the mugshot. Blaine spoke.

'James Christy, he's accused of domestic violence, towards someone called Sean April.'

'Shit. Yeah, that's him. I never thought I'll have to face him again.'

'Face him?

'Of course. I'll have to show up as a previous victim, no? I mean, he never really hit me, but he did assault me.'

'Kurt, no. You can't...' He never thought Kurt would be eager to go to court.

'Why not? It'll help you.'

'Not exactly. I am on the defending side.'

'Shit.'

'Yeah. Shit.'


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I'm sorry this took so long. There are two reasons, one, it was a bitch to write, and two, more importantly, I am kind of busy. I'm currently in Spain and will be for the next three months, working as an au Pair. Which means that yes, the chapters will probably come less frequent, but please bear with me.**

** Triangularbowties x T: Thank you for your kind comment. I was thinking about that, but I just haven't gotten around to it yet. Especially with how busy I am now. But thank you for your suggestion :)**

* * *

The next few days was one giant blur of one of the biggest moral issues Blaine has ever had (which really says something, he tried to get into the music industy, for Christ's sake). And Kurt wasn't helping at all. Of course, he told Blaine, in between kisses, to go to court, defend Jamie and get it over with. But Blaine could still see the slight subconcious reservation.

It wasn't even that Jamie could be pronaunced not guilty, he had so much shit on him it would be impossible. The problem laid in the fact that Blaine had to go to that court and do his very damnest to defend that son of a bitch. Which he wasn't sure he could do, knowing what Jamie did to Kurt.

Kurt (knowing how important going to court may be for an apprentice) somehow coaxed him into going; but it was in a way, that Blaine woke up from a daydream in the middle of the case, with Robinson beside him, and what must've been Jamie, a little off the the right. Blaine measured Jamie up an down; he could sort of see the appeal, well, if you took away the beer belly, worry lines, and pressed some moisturizer into the dehydrated skin and then-what?

'I said, why the hell are you still sitting? Break? Now? Did you not hear that fucking thump? The old prick needs to control his fucking hands or he'll bust my eardrums.'

Blaine got up wordlessly; he couldn't remember a single minute from what already happened.

'Where the fuck are you going?

'Huh? Lunch?'

'Yeah, well, you're coming with me. Wilson told me if you're good I've to give you a few questions which as you know, is a code for 'give him the whole fucking case or his fucking idiot daddy will kill me. This means I have to tell you what to do or whatever.'

Blaine rolled his eyes; it's going to be a great lunch indeed.

* * *

'Ok Anderson, your turn. Remember what I told you.' Robinson whispered and Blaine nodded. The judge then asked if opposition or defence have any more questions. Blaine stood up.

'If you don't mind, your honour.'

The judge nodded.

'I have one question for Mr. April.' The judge nodded and Blaine could see all he wanted was to go home. 'Um. Well, Mr. April has said that my client beat him and tried to make him an alcoholic. My question is, what does the latter mean?'

Sean stood up. 'It means that I had to drink with him every single night until I almost passed out. If I refused, Jamie would…hold me down and pour alcohol down my throat. When Jamie flew out to his family for the weekend, I could feel slight alcohol withdrawal effects.'

Blaine knew that every single word of that was true. Which was a problem. God, maybe being a lawyer wasn't his calling.

'Right. And Mr. April, do you have any proof of that?'

'Um..well…no…but..'

'Witnesses?'

'No, he was normal around our friends…'

'I am a witness.' The voice came from the other side of the room and even though Blaine turned around in a split second, just like the rest of the room, he knew who just spoke before seeing it. Kurt. Kurt is in the courtroom.

'And who are you?' The judge's voice stormed across the room. It sounded funny, comparing to Kurt's high countertenor.

'My name is Kurt Elisabeth Hummel. I am…I am Jamie's, I mean, James Christy's ex boyfriend.

'The judge will allow an additional witness. Mr. Hummel, do you have an Identification Card?'

'Yes, your honour.'

'Please hand it over and stand in the witnesses cubicle.

Kurt did that in dead silence. Blaine stood frozen to the ground, unable to physically move.

Kurt then told the story he's already told Blaine. Somewhere in between Kurt's words, Blaine asked Robinson to ask questions if it came to it, but he refused, claiming that Wilson would kill him.

And so when the judge asked if defense has question, Blaine stood up again.

'Your honour…one question that I've already asked today. Mr. Hummel…do you…do you have any proof of what you just said?'

Kurt stayed silent for a long time. Blaine tried to catch his eyes, ask what is happening, but Kurt, simply said, couldn't look at Blaine.

'I…my only proof of that, is that there would be no other reason for me to speak about this today, than to tell the truth. Simply because Mr. Anderson is my boyfriend now. And why would I want to speak on the other side than my boyfriend's than to tell the truth?'

The courtroom filled with buzz of whispers, while Blaine's mouth fell open and his eyes filled with tears of betrayal, which he promptly bit back. He was a dead corpse. Kurt finally looked at Blaine; it was an apologetic look. Blaine clenched his jaw and gritted out quietly: 'That's all, Mr. Hummel.'

'Is there anything else you'd like to say, Mr. Hummel?'

'No, your honour. That's…all.'

The rest of the speeches and whatnot, Blaine couldn't remember. He was staring right at Kurt. He was asking 'Why? Why did you do that to me?' But Kurt kept apologizing and not answering.

Jamie was pronounced guilty, but only given six months arrest and two years of public service. Blaine walked out as soon as the case closed, ignoring Robinson's shouts to 'come back here right fucking now' and 'you do realize what Wilson is gonna do to me right? You fucking idiot'

Yeah. Blaine did realize.

* * *

Kurt came home to only the TV being on, muted. Blaine was sitting on the couch, his eyes directed at the TV but really staring off into the distance. Kurt sat down beside Blaine, who ignored him completely.

'I'm sorry.' Kurt said finally. Blaine's mouth fell open slightly, not as if he was going to say something, but because he couldn't believe what Kurt just said. Kurt took a deep breath. 'I'm sorry, I…I had to. I'd never forgive myself if I didn't do this…it was a clearing process for me, finally getting over him, enough to speak against him.

Blaine finally spoke. 'I'm not mad at you because you came to the court. I'm mad at you because your only proof was bringing me into all this. Do you even realize what the consequences are?'

'Consequences, what, Blaine I was just trying…'

'Yes, consequences! Did you know that in the past two hours I didn't answer ten calls from my dad? The only time I didn't answer a call from my dad was when I was half dead on a parking lot after being beaten up at 15. The only time. And the consequences? Well, I wouldn't be surprised if Jamie sued us. You know why? Because he has a fucking reason to. Because I took part in it all and because you are my 'boyfriend' I could maybe not be doing my best to defend him. I wouldn't be surprised if Wilson fired my ass tomorrow and you know what that fucking means? The end of my life. My fucking life. How could you be so selfish? Clearing process, God.'

'Blaine, what? I wasn't thinking that far into the future, I just had to,…'

'YEAH, you weren't thinking!' Blaine's voice rose to a yell now, but it soon fell to a resigned, broken whisper. 'I think it's better if you go…live with Rachel for a bit. I'm not ready to lose you but…yeah. Just go.'

He watched Kurt's entire body shake, his eyes filling with tears, his mouth falling open. A part of him hated him so much he could kill him; another part wanted to kiss him, tell him it's alright. He listened to neither, choosing to go to his bedroom instead.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thank you for all your kind reviews. And yes, last chapter was a low blow...but a necessary one ;)**

* * *

Punch.

Punch.

Punch.

Left.

Right.

At the same time.

Punch.

Punch.

Punch.

Nine.

Twelve.

Twenty five.

And one more time.

What was he doing here? He doesn't need to do this anymore.

He suppressed all anger.

He doesn't need this.

But he's here and he's thirsty. And he's sweaty too.

Thirty.

Thirty one.

Thirty two.

He left the gym with no anger, just like he predicted. He realizes now though, that in the past, it wasn't just that he punched out the anger; the anger died down because his body was so tired; it'll come back later and he will have to punch, punch, and punch again. This is the best he's come up with though and for now, it works.

Maybe it's good that it's so hot; he doesn't have to wear a hoodie to reduce the temperature of his body gradually. It'll happen automatically, from the gym, through the streets, to his cool apartment. But it seems that the outside only heats his body up, so he buys another bottle of cold water and splatters some over his face.

Every person he passes has chestnut hair. He hates every person he passes. He does double take for every person he passes so that chestnut hair can transform into blonde, brunette or even purple and green.

Going to the gym was his own little personal failure; he hasn't needed boxing for years now. He managed to get rid of the anger, or bottle it up, for years, but today it was either the sandbag or his own plates at home. Oh, this person has chestnut hair as well. And their eyes look sad as well. Double take. Nope, still chestnut. Well, he isn't the only person with chestnut hair. But it is him. Blaine thinks it is him, it has to be him.

He walks up and sighs. Then with a resigned tone:

'Kurt, what the hell?'

Kurt just looks at him.

'I'm here now. I'm not running away because you know that I work here. You told me to go.'

'To Rachel. I would never let you be on the streets. '

'Rachel? Who's Rachel?'

'What?'

'Who's Rachel? Who's Rachel?'

Who's Rachel? Who's Rachel? Who's Rachel? Who's Rachel? Who's Rachel? Who's Rachel?

* * *

Blaine woke up sweating and his throat hurt. He must've been screaming. And…um…punching? Half of this bed was on the floor; the other half he was tangled into. He looked at his clock; 3:26am and hey, he knows that exact hour. He listens for any knocking but no, his apartment is silent. Then he remembers his dream and he knows now why was he screaming and why is he sweating. But what if his dream was true? Blaine knew it was ridiculous to think that but he couldn't help it.

Rachel. Uuugh, he hates that name now. But he needs to call her, he needs to find out if Kurt's there or else he'll lose his mind. Oh God, he is so stupid for letting, or making Kurt go. He's sure Kurt's safe because it was just a dream but he can't let it go. He grabs the phone and dials the number before he can think twice about the time.

The phone is answered midway the first beep.

'Hello?' Rachel was whispering but she wasn't asleep.

'Rachel, hi…'

'Blaine? What the hell, I just put Kurt to sleep, you're lucky I had my phone by me because if you woke him up I'd probably come to your house and kill you in your sleep.'

'You just put him to sleep? That means he's with you? He's safe?'

'Of course he's with me and safe. You on the other hand, are in trouble big time.'

'Me? But I just…'

'You just threw him out of the only place he's felt safe in years.'

Blaine slumped against the bed frame, shame crawling on his cheeks. He hasn't really thought of that before but it makes sense now that Rachel said it.

The line was quiet for a moment before Rachel spoke again, her voice softer now

'You wanna meet up and talk?'

'I…yeah, I suppose. It's Saturday tomorrow and I can call out of work at the coffee shop.'

'No, like, now. '

'Now? Rachel, it's the middle of the night.'

'So? Are you seriously gonna sleep?'

Blaine sighed. 'Not really. Why though? Why do you wanna talk to me? You barely know me and Kurt's your best friend.'

'I know what Kurt told me, which is a lot. And side-wise, I'm on both. You're both right.'

'Thank you. Just…let me shower first and then…where do you live?'

* * *

They were sitting on the fire exit stairs, Rachel's legs dangling in the air, Blaine sitting cross legged; both of them with hot chocolate in their hands. Blaine spoke for what it seemed like hours. Starting from his life here in New York and even before New York. Only then he felt he could properly explain how much Kurt means to him, how much this case meant to him and how hard it was for him to pull through the entire thing without yelling out how much he wants to slaughter Jamie.

And Rachel understood, but she knew Kurt's full story as well.

'It was very important to him. I agree, he shouldn't have done it the way he did, but he did do it and it was my job to support me. He came to me today, absolutely broken. Not crying, not even sniffling, but he was so, so broken. He told me how he feels safe at your house, or, no, how he feels safe with you. Around you, or in your arms. How he's slowly, but surely falling for you, and how maybe he already fell hard. How now, he fucked everything up, again.'

Blaine flinched at the last word Rachel said. Again. Blaine realized just how much Kurt must feel like a failure and just how much more similar that makes them. But Kurt's not a failure. Kurt's perfect and Blaine failed his attempt to make him realize that. He suddenly remembered Kurt's words.

* * *

'Soon this will be over for me, but I still want to thank you.'

* * *

When he came home, the sun was high up in the sky. He sat on his couch and started making flowers.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Well, we've hit a nice round 10. There's not much left after this, so if you're getting bored, never fear ;)**

* * *

6/1/2019

2:34pm

"Dear Diary,

I, Rachel Berry, am in an awful situation. Well, not directly but it has a lot to do with me because my best friend, Kurt, who I thought is at least dead, is currently sleeping in my bed. I'm glad he isn't dead but he might just as well be, given the state he came to me last night. You see, as I've already told you everything about what has been happening to Kurt, and how he found Blaine (or maybe Blaine found him), I don't have to tell you everything again, but I do have to tell you that it seems like Kurt can never be truly happy. He was temporarily happy with Blaine, however the whole 'Jamie's case thing' might have just ruined something. I knew Kurt was going to go to court but I didn't know how he was going to prove his words. Which was an awful way. He told everyone that Blaine, who, again, was on the defending side, was his boyfriend and therefore there is no reason for Kurt to lie. The problem is that now, Blaine is in horrible trouble. He knows already his father's really mad but he's yet to go to work on Monday and find out what his boss thinks. Even I, with all my faith in good of people, can't imagine they are nice things. And we've yet to find out what Jamie thinks and whether he's going to sue the company. See, law-wise, you could say that because Blaine had a boyfriend, personally victimized by Jamie, he could not be doing his best to defend him.

Last night I was talking to Kurt for hours. Just like in high school, and even in college except that with more worry lines. Anyway, Kurt told me that he's falling hard, for Blaine. And now he feels like a failure, again, and he's contemplating living on the streets again, because it was easier. Of course, I'll never let him do that.

And after Kurt finally cried and I put him to sleep, Blaine called with a nightmare. Diary, I barely know Blaine but I can see that he's a good person and that he really cares about Kurt so I can't help but care about him as well. So I invited him over, although it was the middle of the night, and he told me what I just told you and a few things I'd rather not repeat in case someone steals this diary and publishes it when I get really famous.

The point is, I just wish I could do something to help them. Make Blaine forgive Kurt and then move them back together so that Blaine can make Kurt realize that he is not a failure, something I failed at, and the other way around as well. Ah Diary. I think Kurt is waking up. I'll talk to you tomorrow then. Thank you for listening.

Rachel Berry."

* * *

Rachel put away her pen and sighed. She hasn't yet slept but she believed that helping her friends is worth losing a few precious hours of mental and physical recovery. She could hear Kurt moving around in her room so she put away her diary and went to make coffee. It was just her and Kurt in the apartment, because she asked Jackie, to move in with her boyfriend for a few days while Kurt is here.

Kurt, soon enough, came out of the room and Rachel was ready with two big mugs of coffee, looking at him expectantly. He was about to ask 'what?' when she blurted out: "Blaine was here last night."

Rachel could see the trace of vulnerability wash over Kurt's face (nevermind the fact he was already looking vulnerable) but he cocked his eyebrow then and asked:

'Last night? But I fell asleep past three.'

'Yes. He called soon after you fell asleep.'

'May I ask why?' Kurt asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

'He had a nightmare.'

This time, Kurt rolled his eyes. 'Oh, poor baby, he had a nightmare' he said in a mocking tone.

'Kurt. He had a nightmare that you ended up on the streets again and you didn't know who I was.'

'So? That could be potentially partially true.'

'No. Anyway, I invited him over and we had a nice talk.'

'That's nice Rachel. And you're telling me this, because…?'

'Kurt, what did you tell me yesterday that Blaine told you when he asked you to…move out?'

'He told me a lot of things.'

'No. He said 'I'm not ready to lose you yet'. You two didn't break up, and Kurt, I am begging you, please don't write him off yet. This is your chance, Kurt. Your chance to be happy.'

'Rachel, people don't need to be in a relationship to be happy. I'll just marry you if I don't have anyone by forty.'

'Ugh…not looking forward to our wedding night. Besides, thanks for letting me know you already imagine me husbandless for the rest of my life.'

'You won't be husbandless, I told you, I'll be your husband!'

They both fell into a fit of giggles at that, and for Kurt, it felt so good to laugh. He still felt though that he didn't quite put the message across.

'In all seriousness though, Rachel, I didn't…write Blaine off. I just…I fucked up big time and he's got a career, a big great career ahead of him and I don't, I really don't deserve him.'

Rachel's smile died down.

'Bullshit. If anything, no one deserves Kurt Hummel but Blaine is close enough, on my watch, to deserving you. Besides, didn't he tell you he doesn't really want to be a lawyer? '

'Well he's definitely not quitting now. Unless they, you know, fire him or end the apprenticeship early or something, because of me. '

'Kurt, stop it, this is not the Kurt Hummel I know…' Rachel shrieked as suddenly a half full mug of coffee was on the floor, broken into pieces and then Kurt was screaming.

'Rachel, for Christ's sake! Kurt Hummel you know is dead and has been so for two years! I am not the Kurt Hummel you know. I'm Kurt Hummel 2.0, one that knows when to back away and one that knows it's not people who suck, but him. And he's okay with it. I'm okay with it. I was coping just fine before you or Blaine showed up and I ruined it again. I just can't make it, no matter what I do, it's all just high school dreams.'

Rachel was eerily calm. 'Kurt, do you agree we were similar in high school?'

'Um...yeah?'

'I am ambitious, talented, I never back away, and though sometimes annoying, I usually get my way.'

'Rachel I don't see your point.'

'Would you shut the fuck up?' Rachel snapped, then started cleaning up the broken glass and coffee. 'This is the way I've been from the day I was conceived. I am the fastest sperm, goddammit.' She earned a crack of smile from Kurt. 'See, because in high school, we were practically the same person, that means that you were also ambitious, never backed away, usually got your way and God knows, you're still talented. And you could've made it. I did. That means you can too. And you can still make it. Make it right with Blaine, and never mind your career, what ever you choose it to be now, you can do it all. Yes, you went left instead of right a few years ago, which wasn't your fault, but you can still come back and turn right. Make it right.'

'You do realize you could've said it in fewer than a few thousand words, right?'

Rachel snorted. 'C'mere' she said getting up on her feet and enveloping herself around Kurt. Her voice was muffled by his shoulder now. 'I am Rachel Berry, goddammit. I can't say it in less than a few thousand words.'

* * *

Everything was a blur of colours and the taste of his insides made its way to his mouth. All he could see were flowers. Pink, blue, green, orange, all in a nauseating kaleidoscope. The bitter taste of whisky overtook his mouth as he poured in another little bit. He started another flower. Twenty-fourth, sixty second…he didn't really know. He didn't really know if he finished it either because he passed out at some point. The sun was just setting, casting a shade of orange on his face.

* * *

Something woke him up, he didn't know what, at that point, just that it was loud and unpleasant. He merely thought about how long he was passed out; the sun still setting meant that either he slept for a few minutes or a whole day. The nausea and kaleidoscope pointed at the former. The unpleasant sound happened again and after a minute of placing it, he realized it's the doorbell. The reaction to get up and open the door was automatic really; whoever was behind that door probably wouldn't want to see him in this state.

Midway his trip to the door, he started regretting it. Everything hurt, everything was upside down, the bitter taste in his mouth made him want to puke. He sort of expected Kurt to be there; they'd fall into each other's arms and never argue again.

It wasn't Kurt though; it was Ony, who, judging from his open mouth, was terrified at what he saw.

Blaine doesn't remember much after that, but he remembers Ony telling him 'Blainers, Blainers, it's okay, I'm here, lets put you to bed. Shush.' His voice was calming; and his words gave Blaine warm fuzzies. 'It's okay. It's okay'.


	11. Chapter 11

Something was up with Blaine. Ony knew that much. He didn't want to go out, he wouldn't respond to texts...okay, he's busy but come on. They barely spoke in the past two weeks. This is why Ony decided to pay Blainers a little visit; but he can't say he saw what he expected. Blaine was so smashed, Ony wasn't sure if he recognized him. His living room was a mess of knocked over bottles, glasses, and coloured paper. There were also made and half-made paper flowers, very sloppily mad at that. After Blaine passed out, Ony cleaned the living room; throwing away the bottles, putting glasses in the dishwasher, even stacking the papers and wiping the table. He settled on the couch then, as the last rays of daylight disappeared from his view.

Blaine woke up , sure, that someone is after smashing his head with a hammer last night. Or maybe he even did it himself. Either way, his head was smashed with a hammer, and the last thing he remembers from last night was falling asleep on the couch (which clearly wasn't last thing he did because he's after waking up in bed) What he needed in that moment though, was a wagon of aspirin and a cistern of coffee. With that thought, he slowly got up, and with the last glance at the clock, (7:46am), left the room.

Settling on two pills of aspirin and only one mug of coffee, he headed himself for the couch, furrowing his brows at the perfectly clean table with just as perfectly stacked papers. The fact that he managed to clean last night, made him think that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't that drunk.

Ony was lucky that Blaine managed to put the mug of coffee on the table before he spoke. Because when he did speak (Are you seriously going to put your bubble butt on my face Blainers?), Blaine jumped, and had the mug been in his hands, it surely would've spilled over.

By the time Blaine turned to face the couch, Ony was looking at him questioningly.

'I feel like I should have that expression on my face.' Blaine spoke.

'No, actually, I was the one to find you absolutely smashed last night, so smashed actually, that even your OCD stopped working.'

'I do not have OCD.'

'Well, whatever it is that makes your cave squeaky clean all the time. Have another one of those?' Ony asked, pointing at the mug, and Blaine headed back to the kitchen.

'It's called RSP, Ony. Responsibility.'

'Yeah that. It broke. My question remains, why?'

'Oh well, you know, life.'

'Ah, I see. Happens sometimes. Now, care to explain?' Ony sat up, patting a spot on the couch beside himself.

Blaine sat on the spot, giving Ony the mug and sighing.

'It's kind of private, really.' He was rewarded with the most judgmental look.

'I…okay. Long story short, I might lose my apprenticeship because of my boyfriend, and now I might even lose my boyfriend. And my dad is going to kill me through the phone, once I actually answer it.'

'I said explain, not confuse me more.'

'There's really no simple way of explaining this, without you thinking I've lost my mind.'

'No, that we knew already. Now talk.'

And so, Blaine did. He skipped some details and skimmed over other things, but in the end, he put the storyline out quite clearly. Ony was quiet for most of it, and when Blaine finished talking, he asked:

'So…what are you going to do now?'

'If I only knew, I wouldn't be getting drunk on some bad whiskey.'

'Well, there's nothing you can do about your job, I'm asking about your boyfriend, Kurt, no?'

'Even less knowledge on what should I do.'

'Well…you like him, yeah?'

Blaine sighed heavily. 'I…do, I do very much. I just…it's not that easy, it's not high school anymore.'

'Well, what's in the way?'

'Him, ruining my career?'

'I thought you said it isn't high school yet you seem to pout because you got a boo-boo.'

'A boo-boo on my life and career.'

'Your dad's life and career.'

'If you haven't noticed yet, same thing. What's your point anyway?'

'I don't have a point. Except for the one from where I'm looking, and as far as I see, you're just sulking right now. He makes you happy, from what you've told me, and yeah, he slipped a little with that comment but come on. If you lose your apprenticeship, or some shit like that and your dad disowns you, what are you going to have left? A nice big blemish on your file when you get back to school. And no Kurt.'

'My dad isn't going to disown me. And I can do fine without Kurt.' Blaine muttered more than anything else.

'Yeah, second day in and I find you almost ER bound.'

'Well then, any propositions?'

'You don't need a proposition, just go to that girl's house and tell him what you've told me. How happy he makes you or some other mushy crap. You know how shit I am with romance.'

'Just because we make up, doesn't mean the problem is solved.'

'What is the problem?'

Blaine didn't answer. Yeah, what is the problem? What does he expect from Kurt now?' He's not looking for apology; Kurt's already done that. Maybe Ony was right. Maybe Blaine was just sulking.

'You know, for a guy that spends most of his time like a drunk ten year old, you're actually pretty smart.

'That ten year old drunk kid manages to stay in a law school in New York. Now get your shit together. And shave, for Christ's sake. You look homeless. Then again, maybe Kurt's into that as well.' Ony answered, earning a 'hey!' and a shoulder punch.

Blaine was nervous. Very nervous. So nervous, that by the time they got to Ony's car, he was sweating.

'Christ Blainers, calm down.' Ony said, pulling out of the parking lot.

'Easier said than done.'

'I'd give you some whiskey to calm your nerves, but even I don't think it's a good idea.'

'Would you just shut up?' Blaine snapped, geniually irritated.

The rest of the journey to Rachel's car was spent in silence. Technically at least, since Blaine's head was pulsing with things to say to Kurt; apologize? Accuse? Admit to being an asshole? It was hard, since Blaine still blamed Kurt for what happened. Partially anyway.

They pulled up at Rachel's place, Blaine with no plan, and Ony increasingly nervous for his friend. After a moment of silence, Blaine thanked Ony and said he could go now, to which Ony reacted quite violently ( No way. I'll stay here, but don't you think I'm gonna wait another fucking week to find out what went down.) Blaine shrugged and left the car. The door to the corridors was open; Blaine considered closing it and ringing the intercom anyway, just to give Kurt a chance to make up his mind…to run away or something, but discarded it quickly and took a bad smelling elevator up to the third floor.

He stopped at the door, almost feeling like in a very bad romantic comedy. But this wasn't a movie, and Blaine hoped it was because in movies it always ends well; in real life not so much. It was easy to ring the door bell, but a bit harder not to run away afterwards. Fortunately, he didn't get much time to think; Rachel opened the door after precisely nine seconds.

'Oh, Blaine, hi…I wasn't expecting you here' She said with a smug smile, clearly indicating sarcasm.

'Yeah…I'd like to..talk…to Kurt. If that's okay. I mean…' Blaine trailed off. Well, this was going well.

'Well, actually, I was just on my way out…' Blaine's face fell. '…But I don't think Kurt wants to come with me, so please, hold on, I'll just grab my shoes and disappear. She did disappear, but into the depths of the apartment. Blaine could hear a muffled conversation between Rachel and Kurt; and no his heart did not jump at the sound of Kurt's voice.

'Rachel, what the…? Where are you going? ' That was Kurt, speaking with his mouth stuffed.

'I'm going for a coffee!' She answered, maybe a bit too cheerfully for a simple coffee trip.

'Well let me come with you!' Some stuff shuffled around, and a loud yelp from Kurt. 'Rachel, you really did not need to push me back on that sofa. If you have a boyfriend I don't know about that's currently at the door, I'm going to meet him, despite of what I look like.'

'No! Kurt, of course I don't have a boyfriend. I'm going for a coffee…with myself.'

'Well…who was that at the door?'

'Oh, no one, just the delivery man.'

'Well...what did he deliver?'

'Nothing!' Answer came quickly and Blaine couldn't help but snort as he stood in the corridors awkwardly; Rachel was the worst liar ever.

She didn't give Kurt time to answer, she was out the door within ten seconds, only whispering 'good luck' to Blaine, and letting out a tiny squeal and closing the door behind Blaine. He was now in Rachel's apartment, completely silent, without Kurt knowing he was even there. Yep, that was a great start.

He picked at his nails awkwardly as he moved towards the living room, where Kurt was, turned away to the TV, eating cake, still in his pajamas.

Blaine knocked on the wall quietly. 'Hi…I'm the delivery man…and I really have nothing to deliver.' Lamest joke ever, he thought immediately .

Kurt froze mid-chew, and turned his head back, his agape mouth full of cake. Then, immediately realizing this might've not been the most attractive angle or position, he snapped his mouth shut, swallowing the cake, and turning his body towards Blaine.

'Hi.' He finally squeaked out.

'Hi…I…came here to….' Why the fuck did he come here? 'How…are you?'

Kurt chuckled. 'You came here to how are me? Well, I'm as good as I can be in this situation, thanks to Rachel and a crapload of cheesecake. And how are you?'

'Miserable.' His eyes filled with tears; he wasn't going to go through this without crying. Kurt motioned Blaine to sit on the couch beside him. He was still unsure as to why Blaine was here exactly; Kurt did sort of ruin Blaine's career before it even started so he would be the one to apologize, and not Blaine.

Blaine spoke then.

'I came here to…get you back. If you still want me.'

Kurt's eyebrow cocked. Oh. Oh.

'Why? I ruined your career.'

'No, maybe not…but…God.' Be honest Blaine. Be honest and don't break down. Shit.

His voice was cracked as he spoke again. 'All I know…All I know Kurt, is that I have to call my dad, because he's really mad and I've been ignoring him for two days. I have to call him, and all I know is that…' his voice went up an octave as he started crying. '…Is that I want you to hold my hand when I do. I want you to comfort me afterwards, I want you to be there, whatever I'm feeling; whatever happens I want to be able to just look at you, hold you, and know that it's going to be alright. I want you to kiss me senseless until I forget any of this happened and most of all…I want you to tell me…tell me that you want me…as well.'

He looked up and he could see through his blurry vision that Kurt was shaking.

'I do…I do want you…I do…love you…I don't…I don't deserve you.'

Blaine's crying stopped suddenly. He got up and said firmly.

'Pack your stuff. You're going home.'

When they walked out of the building, Blaine glanced towards Ony's car. He was in it, staring at both of them, air humping at them. Blaine snorted, before flipping Ony off and reverting his attention to Kurt.

That night, they made the phonecall and Kurt did hold Blaine's hand. Blaine's dad didn't disown him, but he was very, very unhappy. He drove Blaine into a panic attack, which ended up with Kurt rocking Blaine back and forth, and his dad telling him to call back the next day, when he calms down.

After that, Kurt did kiss Blaine senseless, then walked him to his bed, and, after a moment of consideration, laid in it himself. This was going to be a bumpy journey.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Well. My only excuse is that I've been super busy and I couldn't get into the right headspace. Even yesterday, I uploaded the last chapter seconds after I wrote it as I felt bad and I didn't even get to write a A/N because I had to take care of the children I'm Au Pairing for. Good news is, I'm back in my headspace, I have better than ever ideas, and lots of inspiration for other stories, and to finish my old stories *ahem*I'll Buy You A Star *ahem*Plus, I'm coming back home in 3 weeks. So I wrote this chapter in one day, and here you go. 2,324 more words for ya :) Also, my birthday is on the 12th of August, I don't usually say this, but reviews and shares on Tumblr would be a perfect birthday present ;) And if you want to follow me for updates on...well, updates, my tumblr name is blainelikestoplay ;) /endshamelessadvertising**

**For that one awesome person, who suggested to upload the story onto SaC, I might do that tonight, so stay tuned :)**

**Also, I'd like to thank you for your reviews on the previous chapter...I'm almost at 40! Thank you!**

**Aaaand enjoy!**

* * *

"So that's it. My life is over." - Blaine whined out, as Kurt packed his apron for the coffee shop and a suit for later.

"No it is not!" Kurt sighed and scotted closer to Blaine, smoothing down his burgundy collar. "You'll be fine, you'll be perfect Blaine, you are...perfect." he said the last part somewhat shyly, not quite beliving he had someone to tell that to. Blaine smiled unsurely, his eyes welling up again, then stood up on his toes to kiss Kurt. 'Thank you.' he whispered.

Kurt shoved Blaine's bag into his hands and then pushed him lightly out the door. "Good luck baby."

And just like that, Blaine was gone. Kurt took his time to clean the already-spotless house, and to make the best dinner he could make; Blaine would most definitely need it. He discovered the flowers as well; very sloppy but beautiful nonetheless. It felt so strange; having a house and someone to share it with. Being able to say 'good morning' and 'good night', followed by a kiss. Bevahing silly and childish, and five minutes later, behaving not childish at all, but very adult and R rated. It made his head spin; he couldn't believe he almost let himself lose it all. And that, if he had lost it, it would've been his fault.

* * *

Blaine doesn't remember his shift at the coffee shop at all. He only remembers picking at his nails, drinking copious amounts of coffee and selling even more of it. His problem wasn't that he was, maybe, about to lose his apprenticeship but that Wilson has been awfully quiet during the weekend and hasn't called him once. Even Blaine's dad didn't mention anything about talking to Wilson; their one-sided conversation was mostly about how stupid Blaine was, how disappointed Thomas Anderson was, and how he knew Blaine's gayness would ruin his life one day.

His tie seemed tighter than usual when he changed in the coffee shop bathroom, and his steps were heavier as he climbed the stairs of the corporation. He was expecting something, maybe a shitstorm, the minute he walked through the door, but none of it happened. The hall was filled with the same shushed voices and beeping copying machines as previous Thursday. He considered going straight to Wilson's office, but decided against it, and headed towards his cubicle. His work for that day was already there on his desk; it was almost as if nothing ever happened and Blaine let himself forget for the time being. He had exactly two hours of normality given; then one of Wilson's secretaries quietly told him that Wilson was expecting him in his office. Blaine wasn't nervous at that point; he was past being nervous. He entered the office and waited. Wilson looked him up and down before speaking.

"I'm very mad at you Blaine." Blaine nodded, his face made of stone. "And I wish I could show you better than just calmly speaking to you...but that's procedures." Blaine nodded again. "Sit down." Blaine listened but his face didn't change at all; you could say he was nervous again, but in reality, he was just tense. Just waiting to be fired.

"I recived a certain call last night, and another one this morning. The call last night, was from your father. He expected me to tell him what's going to happen to you. But see, at that point, I simply didn't know. I made a call the day before, to a friend of mine, and I asked him: "What do I do? Can I fire him? What's the procedure here?" Blaine flinched at the words 'fire him' but only slightly; he has expected them.

"But this case is so peculiar, he didn't know either. So he promised to find out everything he can and then call me back as soon as he knew the details. And that was the other call I recived this morning. Now I know everything. And I'm disappointed." Blaine nodded once again, his lips turning into a straight line.

"According to him, the only thing I can accuse you of is siding with the opposite side, and I cannot, legally, fire you for that." Blaine's mouth fell open at that, but he kept listening as Wilson wasn't half finished. "I can, however, put it on your file, and make it very hard for you to find work in the future." Blaine didn't react; this was given, from the moment Kurt uttered the word "boyfriend." Wilson leaned back and sighed. "However, as much as I hate you, I'm not going to do that." Blaine's eyes flew open. "What?" He said, his voice way too high.

"The reason I hate you is because you're good. Or you will be good; I can see the potential that I didn't have. I'm good now too, but it took me a lot of books and a lot of hours in the library. You don't need to do that; you're a natural.

Which is why I don't want to ruin your future. However, you're not going to get away with it. You're here as an apprentice, and I have to pay you. But you cost us a lot of money, Blaine, despite Christy not suing us. So I'm giving you a choice." Wilson leaned forward again, his eyes trained on Blaine. "I can either write a nice, fancy report, send it in to school and put it in your file, and then you can run off, bouncing from rainbow to rainbow, and spank your boyfriend for being naughty." That pissed Blaine off. A lot. "Or you can come back here once you finish college, for two years of contract, unpaid, to work for the money you lost us. Monday to Friday, morning until afternoon. I'm assuming you'd choose the latter?"

He was going to say yes. It was the only option for him where he wouldn't end up dead. But then again...two years of unpaid work, meant that he couldn't work for the coffee shop, and his dad will probably cut off all the help because of that stunt. And he kind of needed money to survive...and to have Kurt surviving as well.

So he said: "I have to think about it." Wilson was surprised; very surprised. But he handed Blaine the contract his secretary wrote out, so he could read over and let Wilson know within a week. When Blaine left the office, he noticed his knees were shaking and his head was spinning, making him dizzy. Clenching the contract in his hand, he headed towards the bathrooms. Twenty minutes later, he was back in the cubicle, sorting the papers and writing up reports as if nothing ever happened; his contract safe in the briefcase.

* * *

When he heard a familiar beep on his phone, he was surprised to find out his father sent him an email containing all the details of their flight to New York. It said the flight will land at 10:50 in the morning, on the tenth of June. He did a quick calculation; today was the third of June so the tenth would be...next Monday? Oh God. He only had a week to prepare; mentally and physically. To be honest, Blaine was surprised his father still wanted to come see him after all that happend; then again, he might just want to spend a week or two bullying him into thinking he's a failure which is what he's been doing all along anyway.

Underneath his parents' flight details, there was another set. It took Blaine a minute to realize these were for Cooper's flight which was said to arrive a day earlier at 12:10. Good. At least he'll have a few hours to talk to Coop who, despite the fact his help was usually useless, could lift Blaine's spirits. At exactly 4:01pm, Blaine packed his work and headed home.

As he entered the house, an amazing smell filled his nose. It was food, and he could vagely separate the smells but he couldn't quite put it together to make dish of it.

As soon as he closed the door, Kurt walked out of the kitchen in an apron, visibly nervous.

"So...how did it go?"

"Well, I didn't lose the apprenticeship but..." he never managed to finish the sentence. He was cut off by Kurt's high pitched squeal and him throwing himself into Blaine's arms. Damn. He really could get used to this.

Kurt started speaking very quickly then.

"Well I want you to tell me everything but go take a shower first and I'll set the table for dinner, go, I made something special and I'm sure you'll love it."

Blaine pouted, Kurt's now-visible existance lifting the heavy package off his shoulders right away. "Won't I even get a kiss?"

Kurt giggled, his bright face and giddiness immidately making him look sixteen again.

"Okay, yes, yes you do"

Best. Kiss. Ever.

* * *

As he showered, Blaine felt the tension leave his shoulders, travel down his body and getting washed down the drain. The contract remained untouched in his briefcase, but for the first time since Friday, he felt things were going to be okay, no matter what happens. Because he'll have Kurt. And they can figure it out.

The beautiful smell turned out to be Spaghetti Carbonara; it sounded, smelled, and looked delicious. Blaine showed up at the table in sweatpants and stretched shirt, only to find Kurt in his best jeans, a white shirt and a blue bowtie originally belonging to Blaine, that went with his eyes beautifully.

"Wow, do I feel underdressed. And where did you get that snazzy bowtie, hmm?"

Kurt giggled again. "Forgiven, only because you're after a hard day at work. I dug that out of your closet when I was cleaning earlier and sorting your clothes; seriously Blaine, why do you hide all your best clothes? And besides...I just wanted to look pretty for my..boyfriend." He smiled shyly. Blaine returned the smile and sat down on the other side of the table.

"Gosh that looks delicious. And, well, my boyfriend, you do look absolutely stunning. As for the boxes...I'm in a very important position now, I can't dress like I ran out of retro movie."

"Well, you should. Eat now, and then you can tell me what happened."

Blaine was greatful that Kurt gave him more time; it was nice and relaxing, just eating and talking about stupid things. It felt as if nothing every happened; it felt as if he was sixteen again, and Kurt was too, both of them falling in love for the first time.

* * *

Afterwards, they sat on the couch and drank hot chocolate; Blaine told Kurt everything, and read over the contract. It was so strange, being able to just tell everything to someone and not being afraid of being judged or worse, rejected.

When Blaine finished talking, Kurt stayed quiet for a long time. He finally said:

"Well, we have three options. One, you sign the contract, I have one year to find a job and we'll try to survive. Two, you can reject the contract, finish school and be sure that Wilson will never let you find a job. Or three, you reject the contract, drop out of school, and do what you enjoy, even if it means living on the street with me. "

"These are horrible options."

"Yes they are"

"Well...before all of this shitstorm happened, I had a plan for you. I won't tell you yet, but if it goes right, you'll find out. Maybe, just maybe, my dad won't cut off the money he's giving me, and then I can do option number one without you having to find a job, which would be the best for my plan. He'll be here next week, you know? My dad, I mean. And my mom as well. And Cooper too, he'll be here a day earlier."

Blaine watched Kurt's face change from scared to absolutely terrified. "You mean...your parents?" Blaine nodded. "And Cooper? Cooper Anderson?"

"Wha, yeah, oh, oooh, yeah, Transformers. Yes. Him."

"And I get to meet Cooper Anderson."

"Yes." Blaine said firmly. "However, if I was you, I'd be more freaked out about my parents. Not that I'd let them do anything to you, but..."

"Wait, you want me to meet your parents? I thought I'd just move in with Rachel or something, don't you think it'd be a better idea?"

"No. I'm proud of you, and I want to show you off. Besides, I need you to hold my hand under the table again, during dinners or something."

"Um...not that I'm freaked out or anything...but are you sure this is a good idea?"

"This is a horrible idea." Blaine answered, and leaned forward, kissing Kurt's soft lips. Then again, and again, until Kurt responded with his own kisses.

* * *

They laid in a messed up bed, clothes thrown all around the room, bowtie hanging off of the night table, and their groins still oversensitive. Kurt's head light but firm on Blaine's torso, and Blaine's hand playing with Kurt's hair. Everything felt right...until.

"Blaine?"

"Hmmph?" Blaine answered, half asleep.

"Does Cooper still have the same great ass he had in Transformers?"

Blaine's eyes flew open.

"Kurt! Christ! How am I supposed to know, I'm his brother! Besides, why are you so interested in his ass anyway, I mean you have..."

"Blaine."

"...Okay, yes. Yes he has."

He felt Kurt's body shake with silent laughter.

"You're so dumb." Blaine said, looking down at the top of Kurt's head.

Kurt looked up at Blaine, with an amused question in his eyes. "Am I?"

"Yes. But I love it. I love you." Blaine answered, kissing Kurt once again, very deeply, so that he remembers. One kiss turned into another, and soon Blaine pressed Kurt against the mattress.

"I love you so much" He said once more, sitting on Kurt,and kissing him, essentially disabling Kurt's option to answer. And boy, did he want to answer.


	13. JUST A QUICK PSA

Just a quick PSA - I was hoping to get another chapter up today so I can include it in the A/N there, but unfortunately yesterday when I was writing, I was "rudely" interrupted by a mojito from my host mom ;)

Anyway, the PSA is that for the next two weeks, more less, I'll be in my host mom's childhood village and yep, you guessed it...no wifi. I have mobile internet on my phone but I don't think I'm quite dedicated enough to deal with a touch screen for a whole story ;) So between today and around 25th of August, I won't be posting anything. However, I am planning on writing a lot so when I get back you get a nice, edited chapter :D


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